


What If

by TheMeaningofHaste



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Eventual Smut, Gratuitous Anna Karenina References, M/M, Nerd!Bucky, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Domestic Violence, Pining, Skinny! Steve, Slow Burn, is in a band, it's minor but it's there, poor Bucky is a bit jaded, punk! steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMeaningofHaste/pseuds/TheMeaningofHaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if just when you had given up on love for good, you met your soul mate?</p><p>When Bucky Barnes moved in to his new apartment he never expected that the punk living across the hall might become his best friend and the love of his life. Now all he has to do is get over his past and get his nose out of a book long enough to see what is right in front of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who Are We To Turn Each Others Heads

**Author's Note:**

> This work was heavily influenced by :  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7mO_oX9G0g&list=PL4_5gb4Bile7TjHUrnZcGHkb0vQ4MCGn8&index=26
> 
> Check it out as well as her other amazing videos and feel free to listen to it on repeat because it as become the unofficial soundtrack for this whole fic.
> 
> This story has been many months in the making so I hope you enjoy! I have the first few chapters ready to go so updates should come regularly. In the meantime come chat with me about it on my [Tumblr](%E2%80%9Dscienceofsociopaths.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer I am not Russian and have never gotten to learn the language so please forgive me for any errors I might make. I've done my best to cross reference translations but if I make a giant boner feel free to point it out!
> 
> Thanks and I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> ***Updated thanks to stickinsect, now with proper Russian!

Beginning of August, 2014

                “Clint seriously, I am not letting you off the hook no matter how many boxes you drop,” Bucky yelled as he gently placed another box down on the floor of his new apartment. Immediately realizing his mistake, Bucky added, “And no, that is not an invitation to drop them more!”

                Bucky smiled when he heard a muffled curse from the stairs and took a second to catch his breath and stretch his aching back before going down for the last few loads. His new apartment on the lower eastside was perfect, except for the distinct lack of elevator that made moving a bitch. They had tackled the couch and bed first, before it got too hot out but the continuous trips up and down three flights of stairs where starting to take their toll.

                Grabbing a water bottle from his fridge, Bucky headed back to the stairs. If they ordered a pizza now it would probably get there just as they were starting to unpack. “Clint!” He hollered down the stairs, leaning against the railing. “You lazy son of a bitch, what do you want on your pizza?”

                Before Clint could respond, the door across the hall opened with a loud click, making Bucky jump in surprise. Running a hand through his sweaty hair, long strands falling in his face as they escaped his ponytail, Bucky turned, ready to introduce himself to his neighbor. Great I’m sweaty and no doubt look like a hot mess, Bucky thought with a frown, butfuck it, I’m not exactly trying to impress anyone.

                As he caught a glimpse of the man coming out of 4B, Bucky cursed his luck. His new neighbor was breathtakingly gorgeous; enough that Bucky could feel his heart begin to pound just looking at him. The man was small, almost impossibly skinny; a fact that was only highlighted by the ridiculously tight skinny jeans he wore and the black v-neck t-shirt that hung loosely from his body. Each side of his head was shaved short, while the top was kept long, blonde hair sweeping in to his eyes, hidden behind thick rimmed glasses. His pants were splattered with flecks of paint and Bucky could just make out the hint of a tattoo creeping over his shoulder if he looked closely, and no- Bucky wasn’t staring. That would be ridiculous and fuck, where was Clint already?

                As if on cue, he heard Clint’s feet bounding up the stairs. “Barnes, you know I will eat anything you put in front of me as long as it doesn’t have olives on it. Fucking olives man.” He came to stop at the landing, grinning over the box in his hands as he looked back and forth at Bucky and the freaking adorable guy standing across from him. “Hey man.”

                “Hi,” the blond replied, adjusting the leather messenger bag that was slung cross his shoulder as he smiled softy. “Are you two moving in to 4A?”

                Clint snickered from behind him and Bucky felt himself panic. “What, oh no, God no!”

                “What my eloquent friend here was trying to say is that he is moving in to 4A, but I’m just the free labor.” Clint threw an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him in to an over the top side-hug as he spoke. “No, after a decade, I’m finally getting rid of this kid. My little boy is all grown up!”

                As Clint gave a few dramatic sniffles, Bucky shrugged out of his arm, rolling his eyes. “Hilarious Clint,” he mumbled. There went his last chance at making a decent impression on his new, and ridiculously good looking, neighbor.

                “Nice to meet you, Clint was it?” His neighbor took a few steps forward, offering Clint a hand who took it heartily. “I’m Steve Rogers.”

                “Good to meet ya!” Clint grinned, pumping Steve’s arm heartily as he shook his hand. “This here is James.”

                Rolling his eyes once again, and really he was going to pull a muscle if he didn’t stop, Bucky shoved his friend back towards his apartment with a grumbled “fuck off Barton”. Steve’s eyes sparkled in amusement as he extended his hand to Bucky.

                “All my friends call me Bucky.” Steve looked a little surprised to be put in the category of friends so soon, his eyebrow arching with a smirk. Crap, Bucky thought, immediately back pedaling. “I mean, well, most people do really. Only my folks call my James and this asshole when he thinks he’s being funny, and well I guess most of my professors preferred to call me James but-.”

                “Bucky it is,” Steve interrupted, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “Well, I would love to be able to offer a hand moving your last few boxes but I really have to get to a meeting with a client. I’ll see you around Bucky.”

                Bucky nodded, no longer trusting himself to speak around his new neighbor without sounding like an idiot. As the sound of Steve’s footsteps on the stairs faded away, Bucky slumped against the railing. “Fuck,” he cursed quietly.

                Clint clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Barnes, it wasn’t that bad. Well okay, it really was but that’s not the point. The point is that I am starving and you were going to order pizza.”

                With a sigh Bucky turned to follow Clint in to his new home.

XXX

                Two weeks later Bucky had finally unpacked his last box of stuff. His stereo was playing in the background as he hung a framed poster of _Petrushka_ that he had gotten when the New York City Ballet performed it two years ago. A cigarette dangling from his lips, Bucky stood back to look at the poster with a sigh. It was an unfortunate reminder of things gone by but he couldn’t make himself throw it out. His love for the ballet overpowered his hatred for _him_.

                A knock on the door broke him out of his reverie. Thankful for a distraction, Bucky stubbed his cigarette out in an ash tray and made his way to the door. A quick look in the mirror that doubled as a coat rack in the entryway told Bucky that he looked half way decent. A few strands of hair had escaped his ponytail again but if he was being honest, he had always thought that was a good look for him.

                Sliding open the three deadbolts, Bucky wrenched his door open and yeah, he was pretty sure his heart skipped at least three beats when he saw Steve standing there. Over the last two weeks they had met in passing a handful of times. Ever polite, Steve would always smile, say hello, and ask how Bucky was doing. The most they had done was trade a few quips about the rain. However, Bucky was a little ashamed to admit, those were some of his favorite moments.

                More than once he had found himself pausing in the middle of the hall between their two doors on his way home from work, wondering if Steve was still awake. Every day he debated about knocking on the door of 4B and asking the blond over for a cup of coffee but every time he talked himself out of it. The nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him why getting attached was a stupid idea. But now, now it seemed like fate was giving him another chance.

                “Hey,” Steve started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I locked myself out of my apartment. Do you think I could maybe use your phone?”

                Bucky nodded, opening the door wider to let Steve inside. “Yeah of course, come on in.”

                Steve brushed by him with a grateful smile and yeah, Bucky was so screwed. Dropping his messenger bag on the couch, Steve walked over to one of the bookshelves that framed the television. Letting out a low whistle, Steve brushed his fingers against the spines as he skimmed over the titles.  

                “This is an impressive collection. Do you speak Russian?”

                Digging his phone out of his pocket, Bucky walked over to stand next to Steve. “Да. Я изучал русский язык и русскую литературу.”

                “I’m assuming that yes?” Steve teased, his lips curled in to a playful grin.

                Bucky felt himself smile back at the other man and passed over his phone. “Yeah, I said that I studied Russian and Russian Lit. Um here you go. Do you want a drink or anything? I was just about to make some lunch before I went over to work.”

                Steve’s slender fingers wrapping around his phone was almost as mesmerizing as the look of awe that had come on when he spoke in Russian. Bucky had to force himself to look away before he completely missed Steve’s reply. “I wouldn’t say no to a soda if you’re having one. Thanks.”

                With a small salute Bucky made his way back to the kitchen. Real smooth there Barnes, he thought as he pulled open the door to the fridge. Behind him he could hear Steve talking to someone about bringing over his spare key. Feeling his heart drop, Bucky roughly grabbed the makings for his sandwich. Of course Steve had someone with an extra key; the guy was way too cute not to have someone in his life. Despite the fact that he was now painfully aware that he had no chance with his neighbor, Bucky still couldn’t help but wonder if Steve’s special someone was a guy or not.

                “Thanks again, Nat said she’d be here in ten minutes with the key. I’ll get out of your hair if you want.”

                Bucky jumped, smacking his head on the bottom of the freezer door, startled by Steve’s voice that was suddenly very close behind him. “Бля,” he cursed, rubbing the tender spot on the back of his head. He had gone back to grab sodas from the fridge and had apparently gotten lost in his thoughts.

                “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Steve apologized but the smirk tugging at his lips gave away his amusement.

                “Nah, it’s fine, just got distracted I guess,” Bucky mumbled, setting down the cans and passing Steve a glass. “You’re more than welcome to hang out here until she comes. There’s ice in the freezer if you want some.”

                Pulling out two slices of bread, Bucky began to pile on slices of turkey to distract himself from Steve’s presence behind him. Suddenly his kitchen felt tiny, the sound of ice falling into Steve’s glass was almost deafening. “I like your magnets.”

                Bucky whipped around, his face heating up. Clint had given him an English and a Russian set of word magnets for his new apartment and he was struggling to remember just what he had most recently written.

                “Love is stupid,” Steve hummed, reading off one of the magnetic sentences and watching Bucky as he poured his soda. There was something about the way Steve was looking at him, a mix of sadness and another emotion he couldn’t quite place that made Bucky’s chest ache.

                Shrugging, Bucky took a large bite of his sandwich. “It is. It’s just something made up to make stories more interesting.” He had yet to see anything that proved him wrong and he wasn’t going to be embarrassed about that.

                “That’s kind of a grim way to look at the world, don’t you think?”

                “Just because it’s not pretty doesn’t make it wrong,” Bucky replied.

                Steve watched him in silence for a moment, his brow furrowed and mouth curved in to a small frown as though he truly couldn’t believe that anyone could feel that way. It was unsettling to see his normally upbeat neighbor look so put out and Bucky found himself overwhelmed with the urge to make the other man laugh, to see his baby blues light up in the way that gave him butterflies in his stomach.

                “Besides, you should see some of the graphic stuff Clint writes with those,” Bucky said as he walked over to the fridge, standing close enough to Steve that he could smell the faint chemical smell of paint thinner mixed with coffee and something earthy. Shaking his head softly he pointed to his favorite of Clint’s memos.

                “’Caw Caw Motherfucker’ and ‘get more vodka you stupid potato knish’,” Steve read, his voice cracking with laughter by the time he finished.

                Bucky felt the knot in his chest ease at Steve’s laughter and smiled. He’d have to thank Clint later for leaving behind something stupid he could use for an ice breaker.

                “So who exactly is Clint?” Steve asked, his fingers gently pushing some of the words around.

                “He’s my brother, or, well, adopted brother,” Bucky began, trying to decide how much detail to go in to. There was just something about Steve that made him ready to spill his guts. “My parents died when I was a kid and I bounced around from foster home to foster home until I landed with the Bartons. For some reason they seemed to like having me around and made the change permanent.”

                “I’m sorry about your parents but I’m glad you found a new family,” Steve hummed, his blue eyes piercing and for some reason that didn’t seem to bother Bucky as much when Steve said it. Normally placating condolences when people found out he was an orphan made him mad but once again, there was just something about Steve that was different.

                Clearing his throat, Bucky joined his neighbor in playing with the magnets. “Yeah well, thanks.” He cursed at how awkward that sounded but thankfully Steve seemed willing to let him off the hook.

They spent the next few minutes rearranging the words, each trying to top the other for the funniest or most outlandish phrase. Bucky felt himself relax and enjoy the moment, something he hadn’t been able to do around someone who wasn’t family in months. There was something about Steve that put him at ease and he found himself wishing that his neighbor, or possibly his new friend, would stay longer.

                A knock at the door interrupted the game, dashing Bucky’s hopes that Steve would stick around until it was time to leave for work. Now that Steve’s significant other was here with his key there was no reason for him to stay. Setting down the last bit of his sandwich, Bucky dusted crumbs off his hands and went to answer the door.

                He was shocked to see a positively stunning red head standing at the door. A few inches taller than Steve, she carried herself with a confidence that suggested she could take him down with her pinkie if need be.  Bucky had known he was gay by the time he turned twelve, but even he could admit it was kinda hot.

                “Is Steve here?”

                “Um, yeah, come in,” Bucky replied, cursing himself once again. What was it about Steve, and apparently his friends, that turned him in to a babbling idiot?

                “You have got to stop locking yourself out,” the redhead scolded as she walked over to where Steve was still playing with the magnets. “If you want me to come over you just have to ask.”

                “Sorry Nat,” Steve replied, his face bright.

                Bucky felt his stomach sink as he watched their playful banter, unsure whether he was jealous of Steve being taken or that he had someone that he was so connected to that wasn’t family.

                “Thanks for letting me hang out here Bucky,” Steve said as he walked over to pick up his messenger bag. The redhead gave a small cough behind him and gave him a pointed look that clearly asked whether or not Steve was going to introduce them. “Oh, crap, sorry. Bucky this is my friend Natasha, Natasha this is my friend Bucky.”

                Friend…Steve had said friend not partner or girlfriend. Bucky felt embarrassed at just how relieved he was to hear that maybe Steve wasn’t in a relationship after all and wait- Steve had called them friends as well. Was that what they were now? Bucky sure hoped so. “Nice to meet you,” Bucky replied, giving Natasha a small wave which she returned with a soft smile and nod. “And really Steve, it was no problem, you’re welcome whenever.”

                Steve turned from where he was standing by the door and smiled, looking at Bucky with that same emotion he hadn’t been able to place earlier. “Maybe we could go grab a drink later this week, as a thank you for letting me drink your soda and mess up your fridge poetry?”

                “Yeah, that’d be- uh, yeah,” Bucky stammered, his heart racing.

                As Steve and Natasha crossed the hall, the red head leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Steve turned around, his cheeks flushed pink. “Thursday sound okay?”

                Bucky nodded dumbly, too shocked to wonder what Natasha had said to make his neighbor blush. “Yeah Thursday would be great.”

                “See you then,” Steve beamed before ducking in to his own apartment.

                Bucky shut his door and sank back against the wood his head spinning as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Suddenly with a curse, Bucky realized that he had no idea if he worked on Thursday or not. He could probably get Clint to trade with him if need be. Clint would just be happy to hear that Bucky was going out with a friend, or was it a date? Fuck, he had no idea but it couldn’t be a date. He already liked Steve too much and he didn’t want to ruin what they could have by bringing dating in to the mix.

                No, love always made things more complicated and never in a good way. Bucky had learned that lesson the hard way.


	2. Oh, I Don't Like The Way I Never Listen To My Self

April 28, 2006

“One more fucking month man!” Clint whooped, jumping in the air to try and smack the bottom of a low hanging sign.

Bucky rolled his eyes at his brother but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. They only had one more month left until they graduated high school. One more month and he and Clint could start picking out their classes for the Fall. They had both gotten accepted to NYU’s early admission and had already filed to room together in the dorms. It was going to be _awesome_.

“Yeah, whatever, just try to pretend for half a second that you’re cool okay?”

They were headed to a small local dive bar called HYDRA that was notorious for hiring some of the best local bands each Friday night as well as for serving drinks to the few high school kids who came on the right night. Clint had been with a few guys from the Shooting Team at school but only newly 18, it was Bucky’s first time going. As they turned the corner a skull and tentacles sign glowed red, easily marking the entrance to the bar. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, rearranging a few strands for that perfectly ruffled look. He was wearing a pair of tight leather pants with a light grey t-shirt that dipped down in to a deep v-neck and he didn’t care what Clint said, he looked _good_.

Walking up to the large black door they could already hear the thump of music through the walls. Propped up on a wooden stool, the bouncer looked them over.

“It’s ten bucks a head. You got ID?” He asked, his eyes lingering on Bucky’s legs. His gaze was intense and fuck was the guy hot. No more than a few years older than them, the guy stood at six foot tall and looked like he could easily bench press them both at the same time, without breaking much of a sweat. His ridiculously strong jawline was dusted with a day or two worth of stubble and Christ was it a good look on him, Bucky thought, trying to keep his cheeks from going red at the attention.

Clint threw an arm around Bucky’s shoulder as he pulled them closer to the bouncer. “Hey man, I think we might have left those at home, you mind letting me and my buddy in anyways? Come over on your break and we’ll get you a drink on us.”

Bucky’s heart raced and he had to remind himself not to fidget. They had practiced this a dozen times before leaving. The bouncer glanced briefly at Clint’s shit eating grin before his dark eyes roamed over Bucky’s frame again and that’s what being checked out is right? Bucky wasn’t entirely positive but oh, okay the guy was grinning at him now and really? Ridiculously hot bouncer guy might actually be interested?

“Yeah get in there,” the bouncer said, nodding his head towards the door behind him.

Clint beamed, punching the bouncer gently in the shoulder before bouncing over to the door. “You’re a beautiful man my fine friend! Come on Buck!”

Before he could take a step though, Bucky felt a warm hand wrap around his bicep. “Does your friend’s offer for a drink include you?”

Stunned that this incredibly attractive guy apparently wanted to spend time with him, Bucky nodded, flashing what he hoped was a cocky grin. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

The bouncer grinned, his teeth flashing in the dim lighting. “Then I guess I’ll see you inside.”

XXX

Inside the bar was deafening. The lights were dim and Bucky had to elbow his way through a crowd of people to find Clint hanging on the edge of the bar. Bumping Clint’s shoulder to get his attention, Bucky signed to ask for a beer.

Clint had been partially deaf ever since he was a baby. Growing up his parents hadn’t been able to afford quality hearing aids so they had taught him sign language along with spoken English. Just before Bucky had moved in, Clint had gotten his first pair but it had still seemed like a good idea for Bucky to learn ASL too. It had proved useful for more than one late night conversation and for being able to talk about others in front of them. A few months ago Clint had volunteered for a medical trial and received top of the line hearing aids but whenever they went somewhere loud like this he always switched them off. Signing was much easier than trying to scream over the music.

Clint informed him that of course he had ordered Bucky a drink already and, without missing a beat, began to tease him about the looks the bouncer had been giving him.

Accepting his drink when the bartender returned, Bucky turned to watch the band, doing his best to ignore his obnoxious brother. Never one to take no for an answer though, Clint tapped repeatedly on his shoulder until Bucky gave in.

‘No really, what did he say to you?’ Clint signed with a grin.

Tucking his bottle awkwardly under one arm, Bucky did his best to sign back. ‘He asked if he your offer for a drink included me.’

Clint’s grin grew impossibly wider as he slapped a hand on his knee. ‘No shit! My little bro, all grown up and getting hit on by sleazy bouncers,’ he replied, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

Rolling his eyes Bucky took a long sip of his beer before replying. ‘Fuck you, you’re only a few months older than me and he’s not sleazy.’

Raising an eyebrow in a way that clearly said ‘well how do you know’, Clint watched him squirm.

‘Fine, I don’t know for sure, but fuck, he is really hot,’ Bucky signed, once again thankful for their almost secret language. ‘I mean really, did you see those arms?’

‘Don’t get gross man,’ Clint mock-scolded. ‘Now since you’ve apparently already found a date for the evening let’s go see if we can find a pretty girl for the birdman.’

Snorting, Bucky allowed himself to be pulled away from the bar and in to the crowd of people. He never really considered himself to be much of a dancer but when he was surrounded by people like this, the live music washing through him and the bass beating in his chest, well, he couldn’t help but get lost in the music. It was also always comforting to remember that Clint was an even worse dancer than he was.

XXX

The night had started to grow old and the bouncer still hadn’t shown up for his break. As Bucky knocked back his third beer he tried to convince himself that he didn’t really care. That guy wasn’t all that good looking anyways and besides, Bucky didn’t know anything about him. Oh who was he kidding? The guy was a walking wet dream.

“Alright, you guys have been great but we’re gonna take a short break before we come back for our last set,” the singer of the band said once they finished up their last song. Behind him his bandmates set their instruments down and the houselights began to rise as the stereo kicked in.

‘I’m gonna go take a piss,’ Bucky signed, motioning to the bathroom. Clint simply waved at him, hardly looking up from where he was trying to catch the attention of the drummer, a petite redhead who looked like she could take Clint down with ease.

The line for the restroom was blissfully short and as Bucky washed his hands he took a second to give himself a once over in the mirror. A few strands of hair were stuck to his sweaty forehead while the rest still looked perfectly mussed. His cheeks were flushed slightly pink from exertion and the alcohol but it gave a healthy look to his normally pale skin.

Dropping his paper towel in to the waste basket, Bucky made his way back out in to the bar. He looked great tonight and if bouncer guy didn’t want to make good on his word well then that was his loss, Bucky thought, putting a little extra swagger in to his step.

Either Clint had been successful in getting the drummer to talk to him or she had taken him outside to kick his ass but either way his brother wasn’t where Bucky had seen him last. Shrugging, Bucky headed back to the bar, wading through the crowd to grab another drink. A hand pressed against his back but Bucky ignored it, assuming it was just one of the drunk guys in the group next to him trying to keep themselves from falling over.

“That offer still good,” a low voice asked in his ear.

Bucky felt himself freeze, too focused on the hand on his back and the warm breath against his skin to hear when the bartender asked for his order.  “Better figure it out fast before Eddie here decides to go take someone else’s order,” the voice purred and crap, how long had the bartended been standing there?

Not trusting his voice, Bucky raised two fingers, motioning to his now empty beer bottle. The bartender nodded, moving off to grab his order and suddenly Bucky felt very exposed. Turning around, he found the bouncer from the front door and man, he looked even better inside and up close. His eyes were a rich brown and his nose was slightly crooked, like it had been broken at least once, but somehow it suited him. One side of his mouth curled up in to a lazy smirk and yeah Bucky really needed to stop staring at this guy’s mouth. He didn’t even know his name yet for crying out loud.

“I was starting to think you’d changed your mind,” Bucky found himself saying. Really, he chastised himself, that is how you’re gonna start a conversation with the hottest guy in the room? He could always blame it on the alcohol, even if he hadn’t actually had much.

“I traded my break for the chance to get off a little early,” the bouncer replied, nodding his thanks to the bartender when he came to hand over their drinks. “I thought it might be better to wait so that I could enjoy myself in here with you instead of worrying when I had to get back.”

Bucky felt his heart begin to race and he took a shaky sip of his beer to buy him some time to come up with a proper response. “Wow,” he breathed, apparently unable to find anything more eloquent.

The bouncer’s smirk turned in to a full on grin and that was good, Bucky thought. Apparently he thought Bucky’s lack of ability to speak in coherent sentences was charming. “Brock Rumlow,” The bouncer said, extending a hand.

Feeling breathless, Bucky took it, marveling at how large and warm the other man’s hand felt wrapped around his. “Bucky Barnes,” he replied, trying again to give what he hoped was a confident grin.

The lights began to dim as the band returned to the small stage behind them. “Thanks for the drink Bucky.” Still holding his hand, Brock pulled them out towards the dance floor.

The band began to play, music washing back over the crowd. Bucky wasn’t sure if it was the low beat of the bass pounding through him or if the alcohol was going to his head but whatever it was propelled him forward. Slipping his hand free from Brock’s, Bucky ran his hand up the bouncers arm, skating over heavily built muscles and across his shoulder to rest against the back of Brock’s neck.

His mouth still curved in to that sexy lopsided grin, Brock placed his hand on the small of Bucky’s back, closing the remaining distance between their bodies. They began to rock back and forth to the beat, their hips moving in a rhythm that bordered on obscene. Feeling a foreign confidence surge through him, Bucky took a sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving Brocks as he flicked his tongue across the rim. The lighting was low but Bucky was pretty sure he saw Brock’s pupils blow wide. A drop of his drink was slowly rolling down the neck of the bottle and spurred on by the steady hand on his back pressing him ever closer, Bucky licked up the neck, letting his eyes flutter shut.

Brock let out a low growl that Bucky felt vibrating against his chest more than he actually heard it. The crowd continued to bustle around them, bodies swaying along to the music, but they paid them no mind. Wrapped up together, one song turned in to two and before he knew it he had no idea how much time had passed. Bucky felt almost giddy as dark brown eyes flicked down to his lips for what had to be the hundredth time since they had started dancing. Circling his hips, Bucky wet his lips, letting his tongue drag across, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

A whine catching in his throat, Brock wrapped his arm around Bucky’s neck, his mostly empty bottle resting against Bucky’s shoulder as he pulled Bucky in close. Bucky’s last real thought as lips brushed against his was that this must be what it felt like in the movies. The world seemed to stop around them, the music fading away in to the background as blood roared in his ears. Letting his own empty bottle drop to the floor, Bucky tangled his fingers in Brock’s short hair.

Never stilling their slow sway, Brock nipped at Bucky’s bottom lip, earning a small gasp. Brock’s tongue teased across his lips, asking permission for more. With a soft moan Bucky readily agreed, letting his jaw fall slack. He saw stars as Brock’s tongue tentatively brushed against his; eagerly seeking out everything he had to offer.

The band and the crowd of people dancing around them was a distant memory as Brock’s lips moved against his. Stubble scrapped against his skin, the rough burn sending shivers down Bucky’s spine. Brock’s arms were solid around him, one hand pulling his chest close while the hand on his hip kept them rocking to the rhythm.

Bucky felt like he was drowning as Brock pulled back to suck on his lower lip, worrying the flesh between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. He tasted of beer, stale tobacco, and the salty tang of sweat and somewhere deep down Bucky realized that the combination shouldn’t be good but damn if Brock didn’t taste like sin itself. A finger teased under the hem of his shirt, tracing his hips before dipping down the waist band of his pants.

Letting out a low groan, Bucky felt his hips stutter as his already unforgivingly tight pants began to become even more constricting. Tugging gently on Brock’s hair, Bucky let his other hand slip down the bouncer’s muscular back, tracing the dip of his spine down to tuck his hand in to the back pocket of his jeans. Brock’s answering growl sent another wave of shivers through him as his lips pressed harder in a bruising kiss.

“Fuck,” Brock cursed as he broke the kiss. When Bucky chased his lips he chuckled, ducking to press open mouthed kisses down his neck and nibble on his ear.

Grinding their hips together Bucky whimpered as Brock’s erection brushed against his own. His heart was pounding and his head was spinning. It was not like this was his first kiss, far from it actually. He had fooled around a little with a few of the guys in his class but none of them had anything on the wall of muscle that was moving seductively against him. No one had kissed him with such passion or lit a fire in his stomach like Brock.  No one had made him so desperately hard or turned his knees to jelly like Brock did. The man’s tight grip on his hip was all that was keeping him from sinking to his knees in the middle of the bar.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else?” Brock panted, his breath hot against Bucky’s ear.

Bucky whimpered, his brain betraying his better sense as it flooded with images of being pushed against the brick wall around back. He was saved from having to answer when a hand wrapped around his bicep, tugging hard enough to pull his attention away.

“It’s time to go dickweed,” a voice hollered over the music. Somewhere in the haze of lust he recognized it. Clint; of course.

Bucky pulled back and gave his brother a sheepish grin as he resisted the urge to lean his head against Brock’s broad chest. ‘What time is it?’ Bucky signed once he untangled his arms from the bouncer.

‘Almost one,’ Clint replied, his eyebrow raising as he looked back and forth between the two.

‘Fuck, okay, hold on,’ Bucky replied before turning back to Brock who was watching them.

“I gotta get home,” Bucky explained, feeling a pang in his chest at the thought of having to leave.

With a nod, Brock followed them towards the door, tangling his fingers with Bucky’s. “What was that about?”

Turning to shoot Brock a confused glance Bucky realized that most people weren’t used to watching them sign. “Oh, he’s partially deaf,” he explained. “We find it’s easier to sign when we’re somewhere loud.”

The cool air was refreshing on his sweaty skin when they got out front. The band continued to play, music streaming out through the open door. Brock nodded to the man who had replaced his spot on the door for the night as they passed.

“So,” Bucky started, running his free hand awkwardly through his hair. Were they dating now? Did Brock want to see him again? “What now?”

With Clint shift impatiently behind them, Brock pulled Bucky close, wrapping their intertwined fingers behind his back. “Now I go home and take care of something while I think about the way you look when you dance and then tomorrow, you call me.”

Biting down a soft whimper at the images that flooded his lizard brain, Bucky pressed a kiss to Brock’s strong jaw. Really, he could probably cut wood with that jawline; it was ridiculous. “Give me your phone baby,” Brock prodded.

Trying to get his mind back out of the gutter, Bucky fished his free hand in to his pants and pulled out his cell. A minute later Brock was passing it back, his kiss swollen lips twisting in to a smirk. “I’ll call you tomorrow yeah?” Bucky chewed on his lip nervously.

“You sure you want to wait that long?” Brock’s voice was a low hum, his lips vibrating where they brushed against Bucky’s.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his dick giving another painful twitch in his pants. He wanted nothing more than to go home with this guy he had just met but he knew Clint was doing him a favor when he cleared his throat loudly. “I gotta go.”

Pressing a final kiss to Bucky’s swollen lips Brock untangled their hands. “Night, Buck.”

“G’night Brock,” Bucky replied, letting Clint tug his t-shirt and pull him down the street.

“Have a nice night?” Clint teased as they made their way home.

Bucky hummed quietly, stuffing his hands in to his pockets as he walked. “Shut up, Barton.”

XXX

June 3, 2006

“Seriously, did we actually go to school with half of these people?” Clint hissed as they called yet another name to the stage.

Bucky chuckled, folding the long sleeve of his robe across his lap and flicking his tassel out of his face for what had to be the twentieth time that night. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen most of them before.”

Clint pulled a face as their principal glared at them from the stage. “So remind me again why Mr. Dreamy couldn’t come today?”

Sinking down in his chair, Bucky groaned softly. “I told you, he had something else he had to do and it would have been super awkward for him to sit up there with the family for a couple hours. I’m seeing him after dinner so just drop it ok?”

Clint grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like confirmation that he didn’t believe a word of Bucky’s excuses. Ever since they had met at the bar last month Bucky had been going out with Brock once or twice a week. Now that it was summer and he was officially free, he planned to make that a lot more regular.

After their ceremony finally ended and they had a small family dinner Brock was going to swing by to take him out for the night. Smiling softly to himself, Bucky ignored his brother’s complaints in favor of imagining his plans for the night. They were going to hit up a restaurant for dessert before heading back to Brock’s apartment for the night. It had taken a lot of begging and more than one awkward talk about having safe sex before his parents had agreed to it but if everything went according to plan it was going to be a night he was never going to forget.

XXX

Brock’s apartment was not much, certainly nothing to write home about, but in that moment it was like heaven. There was nowhere Bucky would rather be. Bucky was buzzing, his mind glowing from the glasses of wine he’d sipped at dinner and his pulse racing from the way Brock’s eyes had bored in to his skin during their date. Watching the older man eat cake was borderline pornographic and more than once Bucky had to remind himself that he couldn’t just climb over the table in the middle of the restaurant.

“You want a beer or something?” Brock called as he dropped his leather jacket on the back of the couch on his way to the small kitchen.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, sounds good,” Bucky hummed. He’d been planning this moment since their second date but now that it was here his heart was racing and his nerves were on edge. Maybe a drink would help calm him down; at this point it couldn’t really hurt.

The bottle was cold against his flushed skin and the carbonation was refreshing. Bucky perched against the armrest of the leather sofa, never taking his eyes off Brock as he took small sips from his beer. Leaning back against the counter, Brock’s returning smirk sent shivers down his spine. Dark jeans hugged the curves of his hips and a black t-shirt clung to every bulging muscle of his chest. The edge of his tattoo peeked out from underneath the sleeve of his left arm and Bucky found himself suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to run his tongue over the small band of barbed wire.

“You see something you like?” Brock teased, reclining back on an elbow so that his t-shirt rode up, revealing a tempting sliver of skin.

Clearing his throat, Bucky rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Maybe.”

Brock’s deep laugh resonated in the quiet room, sending shivers down Bucky’s spine. The older man pushed off the counter, leaving his bottle behind as he prowled closer. Bucky felt his breath catch in his throat when Brock’s fingers looped through the belt loops of his trousers and tugged. Moving eagerly, Bucky allowed himself to be pulled forward, gasping softly when Brock’s hard hips pressed against his own. “What’re you gonna do about that?”

Brock’s voice was a low growl, the sound threatening to turn Bucky’s knees to jelly. Bolstering all of his confidence, Bucky leaned forward, pressing their chests together and gave what he hoped was a cocky grin. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he teased, rolling his hips forward.

Letting out a small groan at the delicious friction, Brock pulled Bucky’s hips harder against his, freeing one hand to cup Bucky’s cheek and pull him into a bruising kiss. Almost instantly, Bucky felt himself go pliant in Brock’s arms. Slightly chapped lips brushed against his, a slick tongue licking over them before sucking on Bucky’s plush bottom lip.

Brock’s calloused thumb pushed gently against the hinge of his jaw, encouraging Bucky’s mouth to drop open. Bucky obeyed with a small gasp, his lips parting just in time for Brock to lick inside.  He tasted faintly of the chocolate cake they’d shared mixed with the bite of tobacco and the tang of the beer he’d been drinking. The combined flavors sent Bucky’s senses in to overdrive, his hips grinding up against Brock’s as he swallowed down the older man’s low groan.

“Bed, now,” Brock panted, nipping at Bucky’s lip again before pulling away and pushing towards the direction of his bedroom with a small swat to Bucky’s ass. Bucky nodded, his brain too flooded with arousal to register the nerves he should be feeling.

Once he got to the edge of the bed, Bucky turned, suddenly unsure what he was supposed to be doing next. Was he supposed to take his own clothes off? Did Brock want to do that for him?

“What do you want baby?” Brock asked, toeing off his shoes.

Bucky fidgeted with the edge of his button down, worrying one of the buttons as he tried to look anywhere but at Brock. “You,” he whispered.

Apparently that was the right answer, Bucky thought to himself, watching Brock close the distance between them once again.

“Fuck yes,” Brock growled against Bucky’s ear, his hands running down Bucky’s back to palm against his ass. “I’m gonna fuck you so good baby.”

Bucky heard himself whimper in response, his hips stuttering forward at the spark of arousal Brock’s deep purr had sent through him. He tangled his fingers in short dark hair when Brock began to nip his way down the long expanse of Bucky’s neck, worrying over each small bite with the tip of his tongue and yeah Bucky knew that Clint was going to give him hell for coming home covered in hickeys but as the older man mouthed at his skin Bucky couldn’t be bothered to care.

His hands had a mind of their own, sliding down the broad plane of Brock’s back to tug at the hem of his shirt. Pulling back, Brock helped tug the shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, his own hands suddenly flying across the buttons of Bucky’s shirt and oh god, why did he have to wear a shirt with so many of them?

Before he could further berate himself over his clothing choices, Brock had the front open and was slipping it off Bucky’s shoulders to pool at their feet. A quick tug at his undershirt and tie had them on the floor as well, their pile of discarded clothing quickly growing. Though he was still nervous, Bucky felt himself spurred forward, though whether it was from some hidden confidence or desperation he wasn’t sure.

Hands pressed heavy against his shoulders, gently persuading him on to his knees. Bucky’s eyes grew wide as he realized what the older man wanted. A shiver of arousal shot down his spine once again, making his fingers stumble where they hastily pulled Brock’s belt open. Popping the button and zip open, Bucky took a moment to admire the other man. It was no secret that Brock was heavily muscled but seeing it like this was something completely different.

His chest was well defined, the ridges and valleys of each muscle only highlighted by the long tattoo that crawled up the right side of his ribcage. A large, black wolf made up of tribal swirls climbed up his side, the words ‘order only comes with pain’ flowing alongside it. Bucky let his fingers trace lightly over the artwork before following the same path again with his tongue. Brock’s hips stuttered, one hand fisting in to Bucky’s hair.

“Fuck,” Brock cursed. “Look at you down there.”

Bucky felt his cheeks flush but felt emboldened by the praise. Mouthing across the deep dip in Brock’s hipbone, Bucky brushed his thumb over the tip of Brock’s erection. The fingers in his hair tightened, the firm touch guiding his head to where Brock really wanted him. Gripping Brock’s hips, Bucky licked his cock from base to tip, letting his tongue drag over the cotton.

“Such a little tease.”

Grinning, Bucky hooked his thumbs into the waist band of Brock’s straining boxer briefs and slowly pulled them down around his ankles. The sight of Brock’s cock, thick and hard, the tip flushed dark red, brought back all of Bucky’s previous nerves. He’d been on both ends of this a few times before but never with anyone like Brock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, licking his lips nervously, his hand shaking slightly as he wrapped his hand around Brock’s dick. Swiping the pad of his thumb over the slit, Bucky smeared the dripping precome, the fingers in his hair tightening momentarily in encouragement.

Bucky let Brock’s cock fall through his fist as he lapped at the leaking tip, groaning softly at the salty taste. Above him Brock hissed, his hips shuddering at the sudden touch.

“Come on baby, what are you waiting for?” Brock smirked down at him, his free hand cupping Bucky’s cheek and coaxing him forward.

Never one to ignore a direct request like that, Bucky closed his lips around the head, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked gently. Brock gasped, his head lolling to the side as Bucky began to swallow him down, inch by inch.

Building up a steady rhythm, Bucky held Brock by the base as he bobbed his head. Brock’s low groans were addictive, the soft noises spurring him on. As he swirled his tongue around the tip, Bucky gently grazed his teeth over Brock’s frenulum, earning a shuddered moan. Brock’s hips pushed forward, shoving his dick roughly against the back of Bucky’s throat.

Brock shouted a curse as Bucky’s throat constricted around him, using grip on Bucky’s hair to hold him in place as he thrust. “Fuck,” he cursed, his head rolling down so he could watch himself slip through Bucky’s lips. “So beautiful like this- _unh_ , yes baby.”

Trying to let his jaw relax, Bucky let his mouth fall open. Watching Brock through lowered lashes, Bucky let his free hand fall down to push against his own straining dick. The sudden friction was like heaven and Bucky’s eyes rolled back in to his head as he groaned around Brock’s cock at the sudden pleasure. 

Feeling the vibrations around his dick, Brock’s eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t,” he grunted.

Bucky froze, the heel of his palm pausing where it had been rubbing over his trousers. His hips canted up against his hand at the sudden loss of pressure and a low whine caught in his throat.

“What?” Bucky gasped, his lips brushing against Brock’s dick when he pulled back.

With a soft grunt, Brock slid back in to the warmth of his mouth. “Don’t touch yourself,” Brock growled, his voice straining as Bucky’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin at the base of his cock. Bucky whimpered, his hand dropping away obediently.

“So good to me,” Brock praised, his thumb rubbing across Bucky’s cheekbone as he thrust his hips roughly, burying himself to the hilt before stilling. Bucky struggled to keep his breathing even, his nose pressed against dark hairs and sweaty skin. “ _Unh_ , maybe I shouldn’t stop – _ah, shit_ \- you’d look so pretty with my cum dripping off your lips.”

Bucky whimpered, pushing his head back against Brock’s hand that was tangled in his hair. He was torn, part of him wanting nothing more than to stay here on the floor and let the older man continue to fuck his face but he also really needed Brock to fuck him _, soon_.

Slowly, Brock pulled back, his leaking cock falling from Bucky’s lips, precome smearing across his chin. Placing two fingers under his chin, Brock led him to his feet, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. “Bed, now.”

Bucky whined softly, letting himself be pushed roughly down on to the bed, his legs hanging off the side. Brock loomed over him, his mouth twisted in to a smirk as he ripped at Bucky's stubborn trousers. A soft rip echoed through the room, the sound barely audible over their heavy panting. In the back of his mind Bucky registered the rip and spared a moment to hope it wasn't too bad, but at that moment, with Brock's fingers gently tracing up his side to brush over his nipples, he couldn’t have cared less.

In a few quick steps, Brock was pulling a small bottle and a wrapper from his bedside table before swatting Bucky’s leg and telling him to move back. Bucky felt another spark of arousal shiver down his spine as he quickly complied, idly wondering just when the idea of someone bossing him around in bed became such a turn on. He was quickly jerked away from his thoughts when a cool, slick finger traced around his ass.

“Oh baby, you’ve never done this before have you?” Brock watched him with a grin as he dipped his finger in to the first knuckle, Bucky’s body going stiff around him. Rubbing his clean hand up Bucky’s thigh and across his chest in soothing circles Brock began to push the rest of his finger in slowly. “Relax baby, you’re gonna feel so good.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Bucky let his head fall back against the mattress, his mouth falling open with a soft sigh. Focusing on the solid warmth of Brock’s hand on his chest, fingers brushing his nipples in to hard pebbles, Bucky felt his body relax and the more he relaxed the better it felt.

“That’s it,” Brock praised, pinching his nipple, the pain making Bucky’s back arch off the bed in pleasure as a second digit slid in with the first.

Panting, Bucky tried to concentrate on the rough hand that was cupping his softening dick instead of the burning stretch in his ass. He’d known what to expect and even experimented at home, getting two of his own fingers deep inside but Brock’s fingers, like everything else about him, were larger than Bucky’s. “God, look at you,” Brock babbled, his hand sliding down Bucky’s leg to wrap around his own dick.

Bucky let out soft groan at the loss but before he had the chance to complain, Brock crooked his fingers and Bucky was seeing stars. “Fuck- _ah,_ shit.”

Brock’s grin was feral as he pushed in a third finger, flicking his wrist so that they hit that spot every time. The pain combined with a pleasure so intense it made his toes curl against the sheets was a heady combination and it was completely intoxicating.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Brock growled, his fingers sliding in and out once more before he pulled them out, grabbing for the condom he’d tossed on to the mattress. “Gotta get inside you baby.”

Too far gone for words, Bucky nodded, pushing up on to his elbows so he could watch as Brock ripped the packet open with his teeth. The older man let out a groan as he rolled the condom over his dick and slicked it in a few rough strokes. Hastily wiping his hand clean against the sheets, Brock pulled Bucky’s left leg up over his shoulder before lining himself.

“You ready?”

Leaning back, Bucky felt a surge of affection. Brock’s chest was heaving as he gazed down at Bucky, waiting for confirmation. His normally dark eyes were blown almost black with arousal, his lips flushed dark red and swollen. The predatory and raw look on his lovers face was almost too much. Sucking his lip between his teeth, Bucky nodded as he tried to keep himself relaxed.

In a slow, steady push, Brock slipped inside until he was buried to the hilt. Once again, Bucky had been prepared for the pain but there was no way he could have been expecting the sting of his muscles as they strained to stretch around Brock or the overwhelming sensation of fullness.

“So fucking tight,” Brock groaned, his head falling forward as he tried to keep his hips still. “Shit baby, you have no idea how good you feel.”

Slowly Buck felt himself relax, pain slowly fading as his body grew accustom to the stretch. Giving his hips an experimental twitch, Bucky was rewarded by a soft moan and yeah, he definitely wanted to hear that sound again.

Gasping his lover’s name, Bucky tangled his fingers in to the short hairs at the nape of Brock’s neck. Brock’s muscles were straining as he tried to keep his motions slow and controlled, but before long his hips picked up their pace, pushing forward hard and fast as he chased his release. Bucky dug his heel against the older man’s back, canting his hips up to meet each thrust as he tried to get the angle just right to hit that spot inside him once again. “ _Unnh_ , so needy,” Brock gasped, shifting his hips to the right angle once he realized what Bucky was asking for.

With Brock hitting his prostate with every thrust, Bucky felt his orgasm begin to build in his stomach, his cock leaking a stream of precome where it rested against his hip. “Brock- _ah yes_ , please,” Bucky begged, not entirely sure what he was asking for.

Thankfully Brock seemed to understand better than him what he needed, one hand coming to stroke Bucky’s aching cock. The pressure continued to build in his spine until Bucky was sure he was going to snap. Brock’s hips slammed against him, dick brushing against his prostate in a steady rhythm. Small whimpers fell from Bucky’s swollen lips as Brock’s calloused hand slid down his cock before pulling up with a slight twist, his thumb rubbing against the slit with each thrust.

“That’s it baby,” Brock coaxed, his voice a low purr. “Tell me what you want.”

Whimpering at the onslaught of sensation, Bucky tried to string together enough of a coherent thought to answer. “Brock- _ah, fuck, yes_ \- please, baby- shit, _unh,_ please I need-.”

“Yeah what do you need?” Brock whispered, licking up the shell of Bucky’s ear before tugging at his earlobe with his teeth.

“ _Hnngh,_ please- need you,” Bucky moaned, his back arching off the bed and his head falling to the side to expose the expanse of his neck. “ _Ah yes_ ,- please, need to come, _unh_.”

Brock’s grin was wicked, his hips never slowing their punishing rhythm. “Say my name baby.”

“Brock please-,” Bucky begged. His head was swimming and it felt as though every nerve in his body was on fire. He had never been so hard in his life.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Brock teased, biting down on the soft junction of skin where Bucky’s neck met his shoulder. Pulling Bucky’s leg higher over his shoulder, Brock pushed in fast and deep as his hand around Bucky’s cock tightened. “Let go for me baby.”

Pushing his hips up in an answering thrust, Bucky swallowed down a needy whimper. “That’s it – _shit yes_ \- Bucky,” Brock gasped, his eyes fluttering shut.

At the sound of his name falling from Brock’s swollen lips like a curse, Bucky felt himself come undone. With one last cry that came out more like a scream, Bucky felt his release rip through him. Hot spurts of cum splattered across his chest as he clenched around Brock’s cock. Vision going white, Bucky dug his fingers in to Brock’s back as the older man pushed in two, three times more before his own orgasm hit him with a muffled cry, his cock slamming in to Bucky one last time.

“Ah, fuck yes,” Brock groaned as his high slowly faded. Pulling out, he rolled off to the side, letting his arm fall across his forehead.

Gasping for breath, Bucky let his eyes drift shut until he could get himself under control. Soon the cum began to cool, drying tacky against his skin. With a grimace, Bucky pushed himself up and padded across the room to grab a wet rag.

When he returned from the bathroom a minute later, Brock had pulled off the soiled condom and moved under the now dirty blanket. Leaning back against the pillows, Brock’s eyelids were heavy. “I thought you might want to wash up,” Bucky offered lamely, holding the rag out in an offering.

As if just noticing the spots of cum drying against his chest, Brock accepted the cloth with a grimace. “Didn’t realize you’d made such a mess.”

Feeling his cheeks flush red, Bucky took back the rag and returned it to the bathroom, wincing slightly at the ache between his legs. By the time he cleaned himself off, took a piss, and got back to bed, Brock was already snoring lightly.

Smiling fondly, Bucky grabbed his phone from his discarded pants before pulling up a corner and sliding under the blankets. Brock slept on his back, giving Bucky plenty of space to curl up against his side, settling his head on Brock’s toned chest.

Pulling his phone out, Bucky flipped the lock and check his missed messages. Clint had texted him just after he’d left dinner and once again a little after midnight.

_7:15 pm: ‘Remember, if he wants to tap it, make him wrap it!’_

_12:11 am: ‘Make sure to tell him that you can’t go wrong if you shield your dong!’_

Bucky groaned softly at his idiot brother but it did nothing to hide the goofy grin that was pulling at his lips as he taped out a response.

_12:58 am: ‘Yes we used a fucking condom, stop being gross.’_

Tossing the phone behind him on the mattress, Bucky settled back down against his lover, or where they boyfriends now? Frowning slightly, Bucky tried not to think about it, there was nothing he could do to answer that question until they woke up in the morning and now that he was curled around Brock, he was suddenly exhausted. His muscles ached from the use and his ass was sore but he was content. Brock’s heartbeat under his ear beat out a steady lullaby in the silence. The last thing Bucky thought before he drifted off to sleep was that it had been well worth the wait.

XXX

July 25 2006

Bucky rolled over, arching his back and kicking his legs out as he stretched. Brocks arm was a warm blanket of solid heat where it was draped across his waist. He was tempted to turn over and curl back up, tucking his head under Brocks when he heard the soft buzzing of his phone on the nightstand.

Eight unread texts and two missed call alerts blinked up at him. His mind still groggy from sleep he checked the clock. 11:47.

“Бля!” Bucky cursed, jumping up. He was supposed to be home to go shopping with Clint by nine. His brother was going to kill him.

“The hell?” Brock grumbled, voice husky from sleep, as he rolled on to his back, throwing his arm across his eyes.

“Sorry baby,” Bucky muttered absentmindedly as he began looking around the room for his jeans. “I was supposed to be home almost three hours ago to go meet Clint. We were gonna go shopping for dorm room stuff.”

With a groan Brock rolled in to a seated position, the sheets slipping down around his waist and yeah, Bucky really needed to look away from that. The sight of the thick black ink of his tattoo stretching across perfectly sculpted muscles tended to make him forget whatever he was doing.

“What was that crap you said first though?”

Finally finding his jeans from where they had been kicked under the bed after being hastily removed last night, Bucky held them up in triumph. “Huh?” He started, trying to remember what he’d said as he kicked his first foot in to the leg of his pants, trying his best to keep from falling over. “Oh, sorry that was ‘dammit’ in Russian.”

“Where’d you learn Russian?” Brock snorted.

“I just took my first year of it.” Collapsing back on to the edge of the bed, Bucky reached for his first boot. “I really enjoyed it and my teacher said I’ve got a gift for it. I’m thinking about choosing it for my major or maybe Russian Lit. Hell, maybe both.”

Brock turned to wrap himself around Bucky’s back, one hand snaking around to pull the younger man closer. “That’s adorable,” he scoffed, peppering kisses up the side of Bucky’s neck. “What do you think you’ll be able to do with something stupid like that? Sounds like a waste of time if you ask me.”

Letting his boot drop to the floor, Bucky’s face crumpled in to a frown. “Well-,” he stared. “I don’t know… it’s just the first thing I’ve really enjoyed in school.” It was becoming a lot harder to think about the consequences his degree plan would have on his future when Brock’s teeth were nibbling at his ear.

“Just saying, sounds pretty pointless.” Brock’s voice was a deep rumble against his back. “What do you even need to go to school for? Spend so much fucking money on what?”

Sinking back against Brock’s chest, Bucky let his head fall to the side with a soft whimper. “Yeah, it is crazy expensive.”

Brock hummed against his skin, teeth scraping across his jugular. “Just stay here with me this year. I’ll get you a job at the bar.”

Bucky felt his heart begin to race as rough fingers traced across his stomach and what had they been talking about? “Mmmm, you’re probably right,” Bucky gasped when Brock pinched lightly at his nipple. His stubble was rough against Bucky’s skin where his lips continued their torturously slow path.

“Come back to bed,” Brock growled, breath hot against Bucky’s ear.

“But I have to go…do something, I – _fuck_ that’s good.” Nimble fingers began to work at the button and zip of his jeans and whatever he’d been doing probably wasn’t important anyways. Brock’s chest was hot against his back and when Bucky rolled his hips he heard a soft hiss as he brushed against Brock’s dick where it pressed hard into his hip.

“Bucky,” Brock gasped, the name sounding like a curse and a prayer as it fell from swollen lips. “Come on baby, stay with me.”

Before he even knew what he was doing, Bucky nodded, kicking his jeans back to the floor as he stood just long enough to turn around. “Yeah- _unh fuck, Brock_ -yeah,” he groaned when Brock’s strong hand wrapped around his own straining erection. “Fuck yeah, I’ll stay. I’ll tell them tomorrow just- _unhhh fuck_ , please don’t stop.”

Letting himself be pressed back against the mattress as Brock settled over him, Bucky whimpered. His last real thought before hot lips wrapped around his cock was that his parents would understand. It made more sense to make money and save it up for a year anyways. Yeah, the Bartons would totally understand and fuck- he was going to die right there with his dick pressed against the back of Brock’s throat anyways.

XXX

October 4, 2006

The bar was relatively quiet, even for a Wednesday evening as Bucky pulled a new rack of glasses out to dry. He’d been working as a barback at HYDRA since he’d decided to defer school for a year, spending most nights and most of his free time at Brock’s apartment. They hadn’t officially moved in to together but it almost went without saying at that point.

Setting to work with a stack of dry rags, Bucky watched their regulars flow in an out of the open doors. On cool nights they propped the doors open, letting fresh air mingle with the stale, smoky air that hung over the bar. Brock was perched on his stool, leaning back against the door jamb, a cigarette hanging from his lips. It was mesmerizing to watch thin wisps of smoke blow through parted lips and before long Bucky was grateful for an excuse to look away; it would be more than a little embarrassing to have to walk around with a hard on at work.

Eddie gave him a nod of thanks when Bucky brought the polished glasses over, bending to take the newly washed rack out of the dishwasher. While it was nothing exciting, the repetition was soothing, allowing his mind to wander. Once he got back to his station at the edge of the bar, Bucky glanced back over to the door, his eyes seeking out the shadow of his boyfriend out of habit.

Brock turned on his stool as he spoke to a small group that had just entered. Raising his hand in a small wave, Bucky frowned when the other man failed to notice. One of the men had lagged behind to talk to Brock. His back was to the bar but Bucky could tell by the way his shoulders shook that he was laughing at something Brock had said.

A small flare of jealousy burned through his chest at the sight. Bucky worried at his lip, telling himself that he was acting childish when he saw a hand curve around the stranger’s waist. His heart began to pound, his hands polishing the same spot on the pint glass as he watched the guy lean closer to Brock. Watching his boyfriend whisper in the other man’s ear, Bucky felt his stomach churn. The ache in his fingers caught his attention, alerting Bucky that if he didn’t ease up on his grip the glass was going to shatter. Glancing back across the bar, Bucky watched as the guy turned away, making his way across the room to his friends, Brock’s gaze following his path before glancing over to Bucky.

His lips curved in to a smirk and shit, it was not fair how good that looked, Brock could look at him like that and Bucky would happily give in to whatever his boyfriend wanted. Bucky felt his irritation begin to ebb away when Brock turned his attention back to the door, checking the ID of two girls as they moved past him.  He was just being silly. The bar got loud; it was likely the man had just asked him a question and leaned in closer for an answer.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Bucky carried the now clean rack over to the other side of the counter, sliding the wine glasses in to their slots. Truth be told, Bucky missed his brother more than he was ready to admit. He had only been living with the Bartons for three years now but it still felt wrong to be apart. Clint’s schedule was almost the exact opposite of his and even though they only lived an hour subway ride away, Bucky hadn’t seen Clint since he moved.

Now, spending all his time around Brock, Bucky missed his friend. It was only natural that he got a little frustrated over it at the end of the day; it wasn’t Brock’s fault, not really.

“You okay there Bucky?”

Bucky jerked, almost dropping the glass in his hand when a voice pulled him abruptly from his thoughts.

“Yeah, Evan I’m okay,” Bucky replied with a grin, setting the glass carefully in the rack. Evan was a regular at the bar, coming in most weeknights for a drink or two after work. Almost 40, Evan treated Bucky almost like a son, leaving him tips even though Bucky wasn’t technically the one allowed to serve drinks.

“You sure? You look a little green around the edges.” The older man studied him over the edge of his glass, skeptical of Bucky’s insistences otherwise.

"You know how it is," Bucky mumbled, always careful how much he disclosed about his life with Brock to people at the bar. HYDRA had been Brock's territory long before he'd come along.

"You're a good kid Bucky," Evan said, placing a warm hand over his. "In a year or two I'll be happy to buy you a beer."

Bucky smiled softly, his earlier tension all but forgotten. Before he had a chance to ask Evan about his wife and daughter he felt strong a strong arm wrap possessively around his waist. He didn't have to turn to see the look on Brock's face to know what this must look like.

"Everything okay over here baby?" Brock's voice cut through the clamor around them, his carefully neutral tone serving as a warning for the other man to back down

Bucky's first instinct was to lean back in to his boyfriend's warm embrace but he quickly caught himself with a frown. After how he'd acted early, Brock didn't have any right to be jealous, especially not about someone old enough to be his father. "Yeah, everything's fine, I was just chatting with Evan here," Bucky grumbled, trying to not sound as petulant as he felt.

Looking between them warily, Evan drained the last few sips of his whiskey before reaching for his wallet. "You know I think I'm going to call it an early night. Here, you and Eddie can split the change," he said, sliding a bill across the counter.

"Thanks man," Bucky called as the other man made his way towards the door. Grabbing the bills and empty glass, Bucky turned to move past Brock whose arm tightened around his waist.

"What's he leaving you a tip for?" Brock's eyes were narrowed where they watched Evan's retreating back.

Bucky let out a small huff of annoyance, trying to bite his tongue before he said something he would regret. "He knows I'm saving to go to school and he's a nice guy, what's it to you?"

"I just don't like the way he was looking at you," Brock growled, his fingers digging painfully in to Bucky's hip.

"He wasn't doing anything," Bucky replied softly, running a hand up and down Brock's arm in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "Besides you know how much I love you right?"

Brock let out a small sigh, his body relaxing slightly under Bucky's touch. "I know you do baby, I just get a little jealous when people try to mess with what is mine."

Bucky bristled slightly, frowning at the assumption that he was something to be owned. Before he had a chance to complain, Brock's arms looped around his hips, pulling him close so he could nuzzle Bucky's neck. "Come on, not here," Bucky grumbled, trying not to giggle as Brock's stubble tickled his skin.

"I'll make it up to you when we get home tonight." Brock voice was a low growl, his hips rolling seductively as his lips brushed against the shell of Bucky's ear. "Fuck you right through the mattress until you can't even remember your own name, let alone anyone else's."

Suddenly his jeans began to feel uncomfortably tight as Bucky choked back a soft whimper. With a repeated promise of 'later' Brock turned back towards his spot at the door, leaving Bucky alone with a semi in his pants and an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

Xxx

December 14,2006

"I don't understand what your problem is," Brock groaned, collapsing against the couch with a beer.

"Are you serious? Clint comes home this weekend and you're trying to tell me I can't go home until Christmas!" Bucky ran his fingers through his hair with a frustrated groan.

They had been having fights like this for the past two months. Every time Bucky tried to go somewhere it was like the Spanish Inquisition. Where exactly was he going? Who was going to be there? What time was he coming home? What was worse than that was if any of his answers were inadequate, which they almost always were, Brock insisted that he shouldn't go. Due to his boyfriend, Bucky had lost touch with most of his old buddies from school. After the first initial visits, Bucky wasn't allowed to go home except once a week to trade out clothes and even then Brock insisted on escorting him. His constant presence was stifling and more often than not, something would happen that set off a jealous and possessive streak in Brock that would only be settled that night in the bedroom. Sure the makeup sex was incredible but it just wasn't worth the pain.

"The problem is the way you think you need to control my every move! I haven't gotten to go visit Clint at NYU once since he moved there! Not once."

From his seat on the couch Brock rolled his eyes, pulling a magazine off the side table and idly flipping through it. "Don't go blaming everything on me Bucky."

“Are you serious?” Bucky scoffed, getting frustrated at the way his boyfriend was pointedly ignoring him. “I’ve been bending over backwards to make you happy Brock, every second of every day is all about you and I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else, I really do, but fuck!”

His heart was pounding as he paced across the living room. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair again, nervously pulling at the strands as he thought. The mere idea of leaving Brock made his chest ache and his knees go weak, but the thought of staying and never being his own person set his teeth on edge.

With a heavy sigh, Brock pushed himself off the couch, and placed a heavy hand on Bucky’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “Baby, I don’t get what you’re so upset about,” he said, his voice even and condescending.

“Again I ask: are you serious? Have you listened to anything I’ve been saying?” Frustrated, Bucky tried to shrug out of Brock’s grip; he needed some space to think.

“Is this really because I don’t think you need to waste your time visiting Carl?”

Bucky’s head snapped up, his jaw dropping in shock. “You mean Clint?”

“Year sure, Clint, whatever, it doesn’t really matter,” Brock replied, rolling his eyes.

Bucky’s blood was boiling with pent up anger as he looked up at his boyfriend. “No Brock, it does matter.  The Barton’s are the first family I’ve had since I was five years old. Beside you, they’re all I have in the world, and I’m starting to think I don’t even have you anymore.”

“Don’t be stupid baby,” Brock cooed, his fingers digging in to Bucky’s skin as he tried to keep him still. “This is what love is.”

“Fuck that,” Bucky spat. “If love means I have to feel crappy all the time then maybe I don’t want any part of it”

Bending slightly, Brock’s dark eyes bored in to Bucky’s. “What are you trying to say?”

Sighing, Bucky realized that yeah, Brock was his first real love, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily the best thing for him. “I think I’m saying we would be better off apart.”

A slap rang out through the quiet room. Bucky didn’t realize what had happened until he felt the stinging pain blossom across his cheek. Brock’s eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped in horror as he slowly realized what he’d done.

“Are you fucking serious?” Bucky yelled, his hand flying to his cheek in dismay.

“Baby, shit, I’m so sorry baby, I just panicked,” Brock started, rushing closer, trying to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist and press kisses to his skin. “Fuck baby, you just scared me saying things like that.”

“I don’t fucking care!” Bucky pushed the larger man away and turned towards the bedroom. “We are so done Brock.”

As he began to throw clothes in to his duffel bag, Bucky ignored Brock’s pleas for forgiveness, the fingers running over his skin in an attempt to distract Bucky from the problem once again. No, this was not something that could be fucked away. Taking one last look around the room, Bucky decided that if he left anything behind he probably didn’t really need it anyways.

“Baby, please, come to bed and give me one more chance,” Brock called as Bucky grabbed the doorknob.

“You can’t solve all of your problems in life with your dick Brock,” Bucky grumbled.

Kicking angrily at the barstool next to him, Brock threw his arms up in defeat. “Fine you know what, leave! You’ll be crawling back here by the end of the week, begging me to take your sorry ass back. You’re nothing special Bucky,” he spat.

“You know what Brock,” Bucky sighed, pulling the door open. “Maybe I’m not special, but I’m a hell of a lot better than you.”

Slamming the door behind him, Bucky stalked towards the elevator, trying to focus on anything besides the ache in his chest or the voice yelling after him. Deep down Bucky knew he was making the right decision. He would call NYU in the morning, maybe they would let him start up for the spring semester, if not there was always next fall. As he waited for the elevator, Bucky decided once and for all that he was through with men like Brock Rumlow, no matter how sexy they were or fucking delicious in bed, they weren’t worth his trouble. No, he thought, as the doors slid open, he was going to move in with Clint, double major in Russian and Russian Literature and find someone who was worth his time.

Despite his resolve, when the doors slid shut he fell back against the wall, letting out a soft sob. Little did he know, in four years he would meet Senator Alexander Pierce, the man who would completely turn his world upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my lovely beta AuthorOutOfTime for putting up with my whinny ass. 
> 
> If you wanted a mental image of Brock's tattoo (aka the douchiest tattoo I could think of)  
> 
> 
> and just for Brock in general, just think Frankie in Kingdom  
> 
> 
> Also, thank you so much for reading and I hope you're enjoying. I love these nerds too much. The next chapter is almost ready so it should be up soon but until then feel free to come chat with me on Tumblr at ScienceofSociopaths


	3. Who Are We To Be Emotional?

End of August, 2014

The sound of muffled cursing rung out through the hallway as Bucky let the front door blow shut with a heavy bang behind him.

“Oh come on!” Someone yelled, slamming their mailbox closed

Bucky tucked his hair behind his ear and rearranged the strap of his messenger bag, desperately hoping he wasn’t about to run in to Mr. Eckleheart from upstairs. He was nice, elderly man with a booming laugh and absolutely no sense of boundaries. It wasn’t that Bucky disliked him, he had just had a long shift at the bar and was in no mood for more small talk, but at the same time, he really needed to check his mail box.

When he saw Steve leaning against the wall of mailboxes, Bucky felt his previous dread and exhaustion slip away. Wrapped up in a cardigan and skinny jeans, Steve was the perfect mix of punk and old fashioned and it made Bucky’s head spin. He was leaning back against the wall, precariously balancing two packages, his mail, and a large bag of take out while he tried to lock his small mailbox. From the looks of the top package, he had already dropped it at least once.

“You need a hand there?” Bucky found himself rushing forward without a second thought, plucking the top package and pile of mail from Steve’s hands.

Letting out a frustrated huff, Steve glowered as he pulled his key free from the small lock. “I had it fine.”

Biting back a smile, Bucky raised his free hand in surrender. “I know you did pal, but an extra hand never hurt anyone.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, it’s just been a long day.”

Bucky opened his own mailbox with a nod, pulling out letters and tucking them in to the outside pocket of his bag. “I feel you there, you wanna talk about it? Elaine always says I’m great to rant to.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Steve led them towards the elevator, pushing the call button with his elbow. “Girlfriend?”

“Oh god no,” Bucky choked, fighting back a shudder. “My adopted mom, she works at an elementary school and used to come home daily with a new rant about some new rule the district was trying to enforce.”

Steve nodded absentmindedly, making his way over to the stairs. “Well, I’m sure she’s right about you being a superb listener, but I think I’m okay, thank you though.”

Trying not to look put out, Bucky nodded, forcing a smile. “Any time punk.”

They climbed slowly towards their floor in silence. Bucky didn’t know how to move forward from there. He wanted to get to know Steve better, had been fascinated by the skinny artist ever since he’d laid eyes on him, but every time he tried he ended up sounding like an idiot. They had gone to drinks two weeks ago but not long after they’d walked in to the bar, Steve had gotten a call from his mother and had to leave to meet her at the hospital before his order ever arrived. Ever since, Bucky had been dying to go across the hall and ask the blonde for a do-over, but as much as his heart wanted to, he’d never had the nerve. Besides, who was he kidding? This kind of thing never worked out, it was best if they never even got started so no one got hurt.

Before he’d had a chance to make up his mind on what to do about the adorable blond next to him, they had rounded the corner to their floor. Bucky trailed along behind Steve, suddenly wishing he’d never offered to help so he could escape to his apartment and hide. Pushing his key in to the lock on his door, Steve turned, flashing Bucky a small smile. “I did however get more Chinese food than I’ll ever be able to eat and I’ve got a six-pack in the fridge calling my name. You interested?”

Bucky felt the blood rushing in his ears as he nodded dumbly. “Yeah, that uh- yeah.”

Steve’s smile brightened and when he turned to open the door Bucky suddenly felt cold from the loss of it. What was it about this little twerp that got under his skin?

“Come on in,” Steve called.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky followed, kicking the door shut behind him. “Where do you want me to put this?”

“Huh?” Steve called from the kitchen. “Oh, just drop it anywhere.”

He placed the package and mail down on the small coffee table and let his messenger bag slide to the floor as he looked around. Steve’s apartment was set up similarly to his but where Bucky’s was sparsely decorated, Steve’s was the very definition of homey. A couch and overstuffed armchair were pulled in front of a television but what really caught his eye was the artwork on the walls.

In every room, almost all of the available wall space had some sort of print, canvas, or photo hanging from it. Judging from the small studio that was set up in the other half of the living room, Bucky suspected that a lot of the artwork was Steve’s. Tucking his hair nervously behind his ears, Bucky made his over to the easel, listening to the plastic tarp crinkle under his feet and letting his fingers trail over the small table that held more painting supplies than Bucky had ever seen at once in his life.

Realizing it was more than a little rude to snoop through his neighbor’s artwork, Bucky turned to see if Steve needed any help in the kitchen when he felt something rub against his leg. A light grey tabby cat butt its head lightly against his shin, demanding his attention.

“Well hello there,” Bucky cooed, bending down to let the cat sniff his fingers. Apparently he passed the test because the cat began licking his fingers, rough tongue brushing over his knuckles. “Am I tasty?”

The cat purred softly in response, rubbing its cheek against the now clean spot. Taking the hint, Bucky gently wrapped his arms around the cat and pulled it in to his chest as he straightened up. Almost instantly the cat was bumping Bucky’s chin with its forehead, demanding that Bucky fulfill his role as ear scratcher.

“Wow, he likes you.” Steve’s voice was a shock, making Bucky jump lightly. The cat meowed in displeasure at being jostled but quickly resumed purring as Bucky continued to scratch its chin.

“I think the feeling is mutual,” Bucky hummed, nuzzling his nose in to the cat’s soft fur.

“Cap never reacts to strangers like this,” Steve marveled, his eyes sparkling with an emotion that Bucky couldn’t quite place his finger on.  “He must sense you’re something special.”

Blushing, Bucky tried once again to hide against the cat’s soft fur but it seemed to understand that Bucky was trying to hide and gently wriggled free from his arms. “I guess not that special,” Bucky grumbled as Cap made his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t take it personally, he just knows when it’s dinner time,” Steve chuckled, turning to follow his cat. “I’ve yet to see anything he likes better than dinner time.”

“I guess we have that in common.” Bucky winced slightly at his bad joke as he made his way over to the kitchen. Steve’s soft chuckle was like music to his ears and once again Bucky had to remind himself why this was such a bad idea. Hadn’t he already learned this lesson with Brock and Pierce?

Pulling a can of food out of the cabinets, Steve knelt to pick up Cap’s bowl and no, Bucky certainly wasn’t staring at his ass in those insanely tight jeans. “You want a beer?”

Bucky’s head snapped back up with a sharp twinge as Steve’s voice cut through his less than pure thoughts. Letting his hair fall forward to hide the slight flush of his cheeks, Bucky cleared his throat. “Yeah-uh, a beer sounds great, thanks.”

Cap purred happily at their feet as he began to attack his food dish, his tail flicking from side to side. Steve popped the cap on two bottles before offering one to Bucky and making his way towards the bag of food.

“I couldn’t decide what I wanted so I got a little bit of everything,” Steve said, giving him a sheepish grin. Bucky felt his heart swell with affection at that innocent look and found himself wishing he could kiss it off Steve’s face. “Alright, grab a plate and help yourself.”

Bucky’s stomach grumbled loudly in the quiet apartment, making Steve’s shoulders shake in quiet laughter as he picked up a handful of eggrolls. Steve’s laughter was infectious and Bucky felt himself grin stupidly. Being around Steve was easy in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time and if Bucky wasn’t careful he was going to become addicted to the feeling.

“So,” Bucky started, clearing his throat, “is most of this artwork yours?”

Steve looked around at his walls with a small smile, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I’d say about half of it is mine and the other half is from friends or people I admire.”

Bucky let out a low, impressed whistle. “That’s incredible Steve, really. God, you probably have more talent in your small finger than I do in my entire body.”

“I dunno about that, I think it’s just a different kind of talent.” Steve squirmed as he spoke, pushing the food on his plate around nervously.

“Really Steve, I don’t know much about art but this is amazing. Please tell me you do this professionally.”

“Well, I do mostly graphic design,” Steve began, looking pointedly at the wall just past Bucky’s head. “Though, I’ve actually been getting a few commissioned pieces of original work recently. It’s nothing much, but it’s fun.”

Picking at the corner of his eggroll, Bucky sighed. “You’re lucky, you know? You get to do something you really enjoy.”

“Working at a bar not fulfilling your life long dreams?” Steve teased, his blue eyes sparkling. “If you could do anything at all, what would it be?

Bucky bit back a bitter laugh, ripping a large bite out of the egg roll and chewing slowly to buy himself a little time. “Honestly? I’d love to teach Russian Literature but no one would want me for a Professor.”

Steve set his plate down on the coffee table and gently let one of his hands rest on Bucky’s forearm, ignoring Cap who immediately came over to sniff at the remains. “Bucky, I know we haven’t known each other for very long but I think you’d make an incredible teacher. If that’s what you really want to do, what’s holding you back?”

Gradually, Steve’s kind words were overrun by a myriad of other voices in his head, reminding Bucky that despite what Steve said, he was no good. Not really, not where it counted. Brock’s deep voice straining to be heard over the voices of his high school teachers, all of his foster parents as a kid and the commanding voice of Senator Pierce.

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve’s voice was quiet, his hand solid and reassuring against Bucky’s arm. “It’s okay Bucky, I didn’t mean to ask something so personal, let’s just forget about it okay?”

Bucky nodded, idly wondering when his heart had started to pound and when his breathing had started to get shallow _. Great_ , he thought with a frown _, you had been doing so well for the past couple months and now you have to go and freak out in front of Steve. Now he thinks you’re a basket case._

“Sorry,” Bucky said finally, his voice rasping slightly. He reached for his abandoned beer, taking a long sip of the cold liquid.

Steve’s smile was soft and bright, like a beacon of hope from the darkness in his mind and great, now he was getting sappy and poetic.  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, pulling his hand away to grab his plate away from Cap. “So how about something much easier, what’s your favorite book?”

“ _Anna Karenina_ ,” Bucky replied without pause. “I’ve read it a dozen times at least and even translated some of Tolstoy’s notes on it as part of my Masters Thesis.”

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,” Steve said, looking proud of himself for remember the entire quote.

Bucky grinned, butterflies filling his stomach as he replayed Steve’s voice reciting the first line of his favorite book. God, had he ever heard anything sexier in his life, he thought, desperately trying to hold back a soft groan. “You’ve read it,” he gasped finally.

“Yeah, but only once.” Steve blushed, rubbing his hand nervously against the back of his neck.

“How about you?” Bucky asked, shoveling the last bit of his dinner in to his mouth. “What’s your favorite?”

The light blush on Steve’s cheeks darkened as the blonde mumbled his answer quietly.

“What was that? Couldn’t quite make out your answer there pal.”

Sighing heavily, Steve pulled himself up to his full height and answered as confidently as he could. “I said it’s _Pride and Prejudice_.”

A small chuckle of laughter bubbled out of Bucky and he felt any of his remaining anxiety fade away. “Really Steve?”

“Shut up, it’s a classic!” Steve huffed, pushing Bucky’s shoulder lightly. “Besides, I’m a hopeless romantic, what can I say?”

Bucky leaned back against him, bumping back in to Steve’s shoulder when he froze. Suddenly, Steve was close; too close. Bucky could see the different shades of blue in his eyes beneath his glasses and smell the soy sauce on his breath. It was intoxicating and terrifying and Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to kiss someone more.

 “Steve, I-,” he began, but before he got a chance to finish his thought, Cap was jumping from the table in to his lap, his tail knocking the bottle of soy sauce to the floor with a crash.

“Oh, crap!” Steve grumbled, jumping to his feet and reaching for the napkins and just like that the moment was gone. Whatever tension that had built between them dissipating as they scrambled to clean up the mess, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Once most of the mess was contained, Bucky leaned back against the couch, kicking his legs out in from of him. His cheeks were sore from smiling and his chest felt lighter than it had in a long time. Maybe it was better that whatever had been building between them was gone, Bucky thought with a glance to the laughing blonde sitting on the floor to his left. While part of him still ached to find out what it felt like to hold Steve close, it was better this way.

XXX

The next night Bucky found himself rummaging through his sparsely stocked fridge with a frown. He really needed to go to the store and get real food to eat but after spending most of the day cleaning his apartment, grocery shopping was the last thing he wanted to do. Suddenly, an idea popped in to his head and Bucky quickly ran to his room to change in to something a little nicer.

When he came back out in to the living room later in a pair of well worn, dark jeans, a white v-neck and his jean jacket Bucky felt good. Last night with Steve had been more fun than he’d had in a while and even after they had talked for the better part of three hours before Bucky had started to run the risk of falling asleep, he still found himself wanting to know more about the blonde. 

Running a hand through his hair, Bucky decided against pulling it back. He liked the way the shoulder length hair looked hanging around his face and if he occasionally let it fall in his face to hide behind well that was just an added benefit.

Softly whistling, Bucky turned to lock his front door behind him, freezing when he heard Steve’s door open with a click. His heart began to beat faster and his stomach did a somersault in excitement and really, it was stupid to get so worked up over a guy he’d only met a few weeks ago. Taking a deep breath, Bucky turned around with a smile.

Almost instantly, his heart dropped. Steve was opening his front door alright, but it was to let someone else in. The girl was petite, blonde, and beautiful, dressed in a mini skirt and leather jacket. The minute Steve got his door open she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Bucky felt frozen as he watched her push Steve back against the doorjamb, one hand drifting to palm his ass.

Suddenly, even though Bucky found his appetite had completely disappeared, nothing felt more important than getting out of there. There was no way he could just sit in his apartment all night and think about what they were doing just across the hall. Hurrying to the stairs took him within a few feet of Steve’s front door but waiting around for the elevator sounded even worse.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Bucky hurried away. He wasn’t hungry but he could _really_ use a drink. ‘This is what you get though’, Bucky grumbled, berating himself as he walked, hating the way his heart was pounding against his chest. ‘You know relationships only bring trouble or have you not learned you lesson yet?’

 As he disappeared around the corner, Steve finally managed to push his date away.

“What the hell Linda?” He grumbled, looking anxiously behind her for a glimpse of Bucky. He would have sworn he’d heard his neighbor’s door. “This is only our second date!”

Linda scowled at him, putting a hand on her hip and jutting it out. “Some of us don’t move at a glacial pace Steve,” she said, not failing to notice how her date kept looking anxiously towards the stairs. “Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

Frowning, Steve knew right there that it would be a mistake to keep seeing her. “You know, I think I do. I’m sorry Linda, you’re a great gal and all but-“

“You know what Steve, save it,” she said, cutting him off. “I don’t need your little pity speech.”

With a flip of her hair she was off, making her way down the same stairs that Bucky had just gone down. Another failed attempt to set me up Nat, he thought to himself, shaking his head lightly and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Curling up on the couch with Cap, Steve wondered idly what Bucky was up to and began making plans to see if he wanted to go to dinner sometime this week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long, I got really sick for a few days and have been struggling with really bad flare up since then. I promise the next chapter will be up sooner! Also doing research for this has apparently made me a Russian Lit geek so I apologize in advance. 
> 
> Thanks so much to every one of you beautiful people for reading! I'm having a lot of fun writing this and I hope it shows. 
> 
> For your viewing pleasure I present nerdy Bucky Barnes, just imagine that hair is pulled back in to a short pony tail and you have my exact mental image of Bucky.
> 
>  
> 
> Until next time come chat with me about these big dumb nerds on Tumblr at ScienceofSociopaths!


	4. I'm Feeling Down About This Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case I hadn't mentioned it, the chapter titles are from This   
> Love (Will Be Your Downfall) by Ellie Goulding, which is also the unofficial theme song for this story. 
> 
> Thanks as well to my lovely beta AuthorOutOfTime (on Tumblr as Blackcamouflaguewarpaint) for putting up with me while I took forever to write this.
> 
> Enjoy!

September, 2014

Bucky sighed softly, picking up the case of beers and loading them into the cooler. The bar was quiet for a Thursday evening. Their regulars lined the bar and there was a table of middle-aged engineers sharing a pitcher but there were no rowdy college kids making his life harder than it needed to be. Overall, it was turning out to be a good night.

“Cheer up already man, you’re harshing my vibe,” Clint groaned, dramatically pretending to swoon.

Bucky rolled his eyes, doing his best to ignore his brother. "Clint, you don't have a vibe to ruin."

"Me and my vibe are insulted!" Clint harumphed, letting the heavy keg he was hauling fall to the floor with a loud thud.

"Oi! Be careful with that!" Across the bar their supervisor glared at them, though a hint of a smile still tugged at her lips.

"Sorry Kate!" Clint called, turning his most charming smile towards her. "I was just trying to cheer up grumpy gills over here."

Bucky groaned, letting out a string of curses in Russian as he collapsed dramatically on to the bar and did his best to hide behind his hair.

"Oh? What's wrong with you Barnes?" Kate leaned against the counter, apparently deciding that his love life was more interesting. "Did you just finish another one of those depressing Russian authors you love so much?"

Not giving Bucky a chance to respond for himself, Clint jumped in with an answer. "No he's crying over a _boy_." He sang the last word, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Shuddup," Bucky mumbled before pulling himself together and going back to work. "I'm not crying over him, it just... he's just really cute okay?"

Clint and Kate dissolved into a fit of giggles. Doing his best to ignore them, Bucky passed a new beer to one of their regulars.

"Okay, well if he is so cute then why don't you ask him out? I've seen you with enough guys to know that you do not have a problem with that." Kate raised a brow at him, causing Bucky to flush slightly in embarrassment.

It had been a week since Bucky had seen Steve kissing the girl outside his apartment. He wasn't proud of it but he had been ignoring Steve's texts and making excuses to hurry back to his apartment whenever they passed on the stairs. Try as he might, he just wasn't sure how to keep his feelings in check around Steve after that display. 'Maybe I'll go out and try to find a date for Monday,' Bucky thought to himself as he delayed answering Kate's question. Getting laid always helped clear his mind for awhile.

"He's not interested in me like that ok? We're just friends. Besides, I kinda walked in on him making out with a girl in the hall last week," Bucky finally admitted. He knew his excuses were weak, he really did, but how was he supposed to explain what he felt when he didn't fully understand it himself?

Clint rolled his eyes, still unimpressed at what his brother had to say. "Blah, blah, blah, if you had actually made a move or told him how you felt then maybe I would feel sorry for you."

Kate threw the rag she had been using to wipe down the bar with at Clint's head, effectively cutting him off. "Be nice," she chastised before rounding on Bucky. "But really Bucky, if you feel this strongly for him, why don't you say something? If he is really your friend he won't let that get in the way of your friendship if he doesn't feel the same."

Bucky threw up his hands in exasperation. "Haven't either of you listened to a word I've been saying? Steve's clearly straight."

Clint snorted." Once again I say, there's this little thing called bisexual."

The door flew open, a wave of laughter echoing inside to signal the arrival of new customers. Bucky smiled, relieved to have a way out of this conversation.

Grabbing her rag back from Clint, Kate made her way back to the kitchen. "Customers, time for work boys. Oh and Bucky? Don't forget pansexual!" She sang the last word, giving Clint a high five on her way past him.

"I hate you both," Bucky groaned. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, preparing to handle what was most likely a group of college kids based on the noise.

"Shut up Barnes you love me." Clint shot him a mischievous grin before quickly busying himself with checking the levels of all the liquor bottles, leaving Bucky to handle the group.  

"Bucky?" A familiar voice said from across the counter.

Bucky jumped almost a foot in the air, spinning around in surprise. "Steve? What are you- what are you doing here?"

Looking even more adorable than normal, Steve smiled softly at Bucky. The sides of his head were freshly buzzed, a small circular shield shaved in to the left side and there was a new glint coming from his left ear. Sometime during the last week Steve had gotten an industrial piercing, the silver bar shaped like an arrow cutting through the top of his ear. He wore a pair torn blue jeans and a baggy forest green Henley. The overall effect was just downright unfair.

"We always go out for drinks before band practice," Steve said, gesturing at the group that had just arrived where they were settling down at a long table. "Sam apparently loves coming here so we thought we would give it a try. I had no idea that this was your bar."

Bucky chuckled, nervously shuffling the stack of napkins in front of him. "Yeah The Howling Commando, my home away from home. Let me grab Clint to get you guys some drinks."

"Why? What are you up to?" Steve teased, his baby blue eyes dancing in amusement.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the bar as he searched for a viable excuse. "I've got to finish the inventory for the liquor before I get off."

It was clear that Steve didn't really believe him but was going to let him get away with his fib. Bucky's stomach flipped uncomfortably at the concerned furrow in Steve's brow. He hated lying to Steve but he still needed more time to put a little distance between them.

"Well if you get off in time come grab a drink with us ok? First round is on me."

Before Bucky could try to come up with a new excuse Clint appeared at his side as if he had heard Bucky's silent pleas for help. "Hey Steve-o, fancy seeing you here!"

Shooting one last concerned look at Bucky, Steve turned his beaming smile on Clint. "Hey Clint, I was just telling Bucky here that I came to grab some drinks with my band before practice. You think we could get a pitcher of your best seasonal brew on tap?"

"No shit, I didn't know you were in a band," Clint said, shooting an accusatory look at Bucky as he reached past for glasses.

"We're not the best but we do have a gig coming up next weekend." Steve shrugged, trying to pretend like it was a much smaller deal than it actually was. "I was trying to get Bucky to come meet the gang when he gets off. You're more than welcome to join us."

Bucky groaned softly, taking his time estimating how much was left in the bottle of whiskey he was holding. Clint had been trying to encourage Bucky to spend more time with the blond and now that he had been invited, there was no way Bucky was getting out of it.

"Really? You've got great timing. We're both due to get out in about half an hour." Clint sat the heavy pitcher in the counter. "Here, it's the Autumn Annual that Dum Dum brews, you'll love it."

Steve cocked his head, and no Bucky definitely wasn't watching out of the corner of his eye. "Who's Dum Dum?"

"Dum Dum Dugan, he owns the place," Clint explained, pointing back to the slightly faded photograph that hung over the bar. A large, jovial man with a bowler cap and a thick moustache smiled back at them, each arm slung over the shoulders of a friend. “Old Army vet turned bar owner and then beer brewer.”

Steve let out a low whistle, the sound sending shivers down Bucky’s spine. “A man of many talents.” He grabbed the pitcher and raised the stack of glasses in salute as he spoke. “Thanks though, hopefully we’ll see you both soon!”

Clint called back a confirmation that they would definitely be there before turning to leer at Bucky who glowered at him.

“You suck you know that?”

Clint’s smile only grew at the insult. “Hey, I was invited; it was you who didn’t have to agree to come along. You could have just as easily have told him that you were busy after work.”

“No I couldn’t have,” Bucky grumbled, picking up the last of the bottles. “Have you seen his ass in those pants? No way in hell you can say no to that.”

Clint’s booming laugh echoed through the bar, turning a few heads. Steve smiled, watching them for a minute before he turned back to his friends. If Bucky had thought to look, he might have noticed the way that Steve’s gaze lingered on him as he chewed his lip or the way he watched Bucky’s every move like it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “You know, I might just be able to resist it.”

The noise caught Kate’s attention as well. “Oh, is that him?” She asked, leaning back against the counter behind the bar and watching the table of newcomers.

“What is this obsession you two have with my love life?”  Bucky groaned. He pushed the clipboard with his completed inventory list towards Kate in a weak attempt to distract her.

She took it without sparing him a second glance, looking instead to Clint for confirmation. “Yeah, that little blonde punk is the one who stole our poor James’ heart.”

“He’s fucking adorable,” Kate said, elbowing Bucky in the side. “He’s not normally your type but   
I think that’s probably a good thing right now. I mean come on Bucky, that boy is cute.”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes as he took a few calming breaths. Unfortunately the second his eyes closed all he saw was Steve’s bright eyes, golden hair, and pink lips smiling back at him like they had the other night in Steve’s apartment.

“Okay, thank you Dr. Phil and Oprah but I think I have this one covered on my own, thanks.” Hoping that he had shut down any further conversation about his feelings for Steve, Bucky turned to make sure they had enough limes cut up.

The look that Kate and Clint shared behind his back was downright diabolical. “You know what boys?” Kate started loudly, “I think it’s gonna be a slow night, why don’t you two get out a little early?”

Bucky blanched, that was the exact opposite reaction he had been going for.

“Thanks Kate, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.” Clint’s voice was overly cheery and polite, almost to the point of sounding rehearsed. Hell, Bucky wouldn’t put it past those two to have actually rehearsed it in the break room. “James, grab another pitcher and some glasses and let’s go see your boy!”

“I really, really hate you,” Bucky signed to his brother, his hands flying under the cover of the counter. “We. Are. Just. Friends.”

“If you’re just friends, then what’s the problem? Besides, I’m going with or without you. I have got to go meet that redhead.”

Bucky’s shoulders sagged as he let out a sigh, he knew when he had been beat. “Touché. Alright, let’s go.”

He grabbed a new pitcher and filled it with his favorite local wheat beer. If he was going to be spending the entire night trying to keep his hands off Steve then he was going to need more than one drink and damn if Dum Dum’s Winter Soldier Wheat didn’t go down easy. Making his way around the bar, Bucky glowered as he saw Clint and Kate share a less than subtle fist bump.

Smirking, Bucky began to plan his revenge. He knew that Clint worked tomorrow night while he was off so it would be so easy to sneak over to his brother’s apartment.  A few well-placed dog treats in each of Clint’s shoes and jacket pockets would attract Lucky’s attention. While she knew better than to chew up Clint’s things, the mutt was a drool machine. Soggy sneakers would serve Clint right.

Leaving Clint to grab a pair of glasses, Bucky made his way over to Steve and his friends. Steve had been glancing over every few minutes, keeping an eye on Bucky’s whereabouts all night. When he saw Bucky making his way over, his whole face lit up. His smile sent Bucky’s heart racing and filled his stomach with butterflies. Steve eagerly pulled up an empty chair, squeezing it into the open space between him and the dark skinned man to his left.

‘Calm down Barnes’ Bucky lectured himself quietly. ‘You’ll sit down, make small talk, have a drink or two and then get out.’

“Hey Buck,” Steve greeted, and damn, Bucky thought, it just wasn’t fair the effect that the blond’s bright smile had on him. “Thought you weren’t off for another twenty minutes.”

Bucky took the offered seat, smiling nervously at the new faces around the table through the long strands of hair that fell in front of his eyes. “Yeah well, Kate offered to let us out early and there was no way in hell that I wasn’t going to take her up on that. If you’re sick of me already I’ll take this pitcher and get out of here,” he teased.

“How’d you know I was sick of your mug already?” Steve deadpanned, gently bumping his shoulder into Bucky’s.

“Hey what’d I miss?” Clint asked, interrupting the gentle teasing as he pulled up an extra chair and sat next to the redhead. Subtlety was not a characteristic Clint Barton had ever been known for.

“I was just reminding Bucky how sick I was of seeing him around all the time.” Steve smirked when Clint looked quickly over to Bucky as if to check his reaction before he responded.

Bucky just rolled his eyes but he couldn’t deny how happy he was that Steve and Clint got along. He’d figured it out the hard way that anyone his brother didn’t like, was probably bad news anyways.

Clint shoved an empty glass in Bucky’s direction in a silent demand for a drink as he laughed. “Oh good, I have to remind him of that almost daily.”

“Okay, ha ha, you two are hilarious,” Bucky grumbled, taking Clint’s glass as his own out of childish spite.

“Sorry Buck, we were only teasing,” Steve said, his voice sickly sweet as he batted his eyelashes dramatically. His shoulder bumped gently against Bucky’s again, the soft contact sending goosebumps across Bucky’s flesh.

“You gonna introduce us to your new friends here Steve?” The red head drawled, looking over to Clint with a smirk.

Steve’s face blushed the prettiest color of pink Bucky had ever seen, the color spreading down his neck. “Yeah sorry, guys this is my friend and neighbor Bucky and his brother Clint,” he said, gesturing to the two newcomers in turn.  “Bucky, this here is Natasha, Tony and Sam.”

Natasha nodded once in greeting , one perfectly arched brow raising in amusement when she noticed that Steve had forgotten about Clint so quickly. Her friend was stubborn about admitting his attraction to his new neighbor but he could be so obvious some times.

“So this is the famous Bucky,” Tony said, raising his beer in salute.

Bucky turned to grin at Steve, immediately falling back in to their gentle teasing. “Oh, I’m famous am I?”

“No, I wouldn’t call you famous-,” Steve started, fidgeting nervously in his chair.

“Yeah, what would you call it then?” Sam asked with a smirk

As they sat around the table Bucky felt himself relax and his smile grow more genuine. Steve’s friends were actually pretty great. The banter back and forth between them was easy, making Bucky feel like they had all known each other longer than just a few minutes.

Clint was completely enamored with Natasha, rarely looking away from the redhead regardless of who he was actually talking to at the time. While she didn’t return his interest with such enthusiasm, Natasha looked pleased by the attention.

Listening to Steve laugh hysterically at something Sam had said, his hand grabbing at his left pec as he tried to catch his breath, Bucky wondered how he had managed to make it even a week without Steve. The blond’s grin was infectious and Bucky couldn’t ignore the pleasant burn in his cheeks that came from smiling more than he had in a long time.  They had only known each other a little over a month but it was clear that he could never go back to a point where he didn’t have Steve in his life. That being said, it meant that Bucky could never follow through on his feelings for his neighbor. No matter how much he wanted it, the relationship would never work and he’d be back to square one, left alone again. And after a little taste of what it was like to have Steve around, there was no going back to life pre-Steve Rogers.

They made it through two more pitchers before they realized how late it had gotten. “Are we still going to attempt to have band practice tonight?” Natasha asked, glancing down at her cell phone. “Because it’s already just about nine.”

“Oh shit!” Steve straightened up in his chair, looking around to his friends for confirmation that they were ready to go. “We have to practice tonight if we ever want to be ready for the show next week.”

There was a general round of agreement at his hurried insistence and everyone began to reach for their things and drown the last few sips of beer from their glass. Bucky felt his stomach drop as he realized that he was going to have to go home alone so early. Maybe if he dropped by the bar by his apartment on the way home he could find that date or even just a quick fuck.

“You want to tag along? Steve asked, his voice abruptly pulling Bucky from his thoughts.

“Huh?” Bucky asked, blinking heavily. His ears had to be playing tricks on him; there was no way Steve was asking him to come watch him and his band practice. Right?

Steve smiled down at him, running a hand nervously through the long strands of hair on the top of his head. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t want to assume that you don’t have anything better to do tonight but we already just practice on the roof so it’s not like it would be too far out of the way.”

“You want me to come listen to you play?”

Steve let out a chuckle, backing away to give Bucky space to push his chair out and stand. “Yeah Buck, if you’re interested I’d love it if you came and listened.”

“I’m there,” Bucky said, almost too quickly. He bit down on his lower lip to stop himself from saying anything else that might sound stupid.

The rest of their friends and Steve’s band mates had already made it to the door and stood watching the two linger with varying degrees of amusement.

“You think they’ll ever get their act together?” Sam asked quietly, shooting Clint a conspiring grin.

Clint just rolled his eyes, shaking his head gently as he watched Steve and Bucky make their way across the bar. “Your guess is as good as mine pal.”

XXX

The roof on top of their apartment building couldn’t have been a better location. It was high enough to have a spectacular view of the Manhattan skyline but lower than some of the buildings around it so there was plenty of shade to be found during the hot summer afternoons. The stairway that lead up to it was dirty and dank and the metal door was rusted and tended to stick if you forgot to prop it open an inch or two, suggesting that their presence up there was not something the landlord encouraged. However, the numerous clothes lines swinging in the evening breeze, the soft white Christmas lights that had been haphazardly strung and the smattering of furniture suggested that most of the tenants didn’t care.

Natasha began to set up her kit, happily instructed Clint just where to put each heavy piece of equipment. Once he finished he stepped back to look at his handy work.

"Wait a second where have I seen that symbol before?" Clint's eyes narrowed as he studied the red hourglass symbol on the front of Natasha's bass drum.

Sam shrugged from where he was setting up his small amp and bass guitar. "I dunno man, maybe you caught one of our shows without realizing it. We've been playing on and off for almost a decade now."

Clint and Bucky shared a glance before realization dawned over both of them. "Holy crap, you're the mystery redhead from that band we saw at Hydra!" Natasha smirked down at home as if she had recognized him immediately and just been waiting for him to realize.

Bucky cocked his head, trying to remember when Clint had met a redheaded drummer. After working at Hydra for so long the nights and bands were all blurred together in his mind. "When was that?" He asked, flopping down on the old beaten up couch in front if the makeshift stage.

"You remember, it was the first time we went!" Clint said, so excited by the revelation that he looked like someone had just offered him an entire box of puppies. "You know, the same night you met- oh, shit."

Bucky winced at the memory, instantly curling in on himself at the very idea of Brock. He tried his best to forget about that entire part of his life and for the most part he was successful but he when he did-. His breathing felt labored, each breath coming in sharp gasps as Brock's condescending, gruff voice filled his head. The world around him was narrowing down, the edges going dark and blurry as he fought against losing control. _Who do you think you are Barnes? You'll never amount to anything anyways-_

"Come on Bucky, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't think. Breathe with me okay?" Clint's voice slowly broke through the chaos in his mind. His brothers hand was a steady pressure on his back, grounding him to the present. "He's gone and you're here. You're right here on the roof waiting for Steve's band to play."

Taking on more shuddering breath, Bucky looked up nervously. It had been a few months since he'd had a panic attack that intense and even longer since he'd had one in public. He'd  forgotten how much he hated them and how drained he always felt afterwards.

Steve had jumped down and run over the second he noticed Bucky flinch but he had been helpless to do my thing but watch. He didn't want to do anything to make Bucky feel worse but he couldn't stand to see his friend panic like that. Wringing his hands nervously, Steve had watched carefully as Clint began to talk to Bucky and slowly work him through the attack. He made sure to make careful note of everything the other man did so that he could repeat it in the future.

Bucky tried to smile up at Steve to reassure him that he was okay. He didn't want the blond to think he was as broken as he was. Judging by the way Steve's brow furrowed and the pained look in those too blue eyes though, Steve didn't believe him. Bucky clenched his jaw, the muscles working as he tried to think of something to say. Tony thankfully saved him the trouble.

"Hey, love birds, we gonna practice or state at each other all night? If so then I choose staring at Nat!"

Natasha rolled her eyes, sitting down on the stool behind her drum set. "Not likely Stark."

"Go, I'm fine," Bucky whispered, tilting his head towards the small stage. "Let's see if you're any good Rogers."

Steve's smile grew, and Bucky felt part of the knot in his chest relax as the concerned look slowly faded only to be replaced by a defiant glint. "I'll have you know Bucky that I am very good," Steve replied with a wink.

Damn, that was just not fair, Bucky thought as he tried to hold back a groan. His dick gave a half hearted twitch in his jeans at the innuendo and Bucky's heart began to race again but for an entirely different reason this time. Watching Steve saunter towards the stage, his hips swaying in those too tight pants, Bucky but his lip. Just friends, he reminded himself. Just friends.

The band began to do a quick sound check, tuning their instruments and making sure the small amps had been properly connected. Next to him, Clint shifted away, putting some space between them. He reached down and pulled out a small cooler that Bucky had previously noticed. Clint cracked open two beers and passed one to Bucky who replied with a small nod. They had been through this routine long enough and so many times that Clint knew what Bucky was trying to say with the small gesture. Thank you for always being there, for being my brother and being my friend.

"Alright, who's ready to hear some music?" Steve hollered, as though he was trying to get the attention of a large crowd and not just the two men on the couch.

"Whooooo!" Bucky called, doing his best to sound enthusiastic. Despite feeling completely worn down from his prior panic attack he really was excited to see Steve play.

Next to Bucky, Clint clapped wildly before pumping a fist in the air. His gaze was locked on to Natasha and yeah, Bucky was definitely going to have to give him crap for that later.

"We are Til The End Of The Line, we're gonna start off a little slower for you here, let you get warmed up," Steve turned to face his friends, nodding once to Tony at his keyboard, Sam with his electric bass, and Nat behind her drums.

With fours clicks of her drum sticks, Natasha led them in to the song. Strumming at his guitar, Steve moved in towards his microphone, blue eyes fluttering shut as he began to sing. "Open sesame, we've places to be."

Bucky gaped as he watched Steve sway slightly, his delicate, artistic fingers flying over the strings, and his lips no more than a hair's width from the microphone. The blond's voice was surprisingly deep and rich to be coming from someone so small, but Bucky knew he shouldn't be surprised. Everything about Steve was new and surprising and constantly defied his expectations. Each word that Steve sung sent a fresh wave of shivers down Bucky's spine.

"Stop the world cause I wanna," Steve eyes flicked open, locking with Bucky's as he sang, "get out with you."

"Fuuuuck me," Bucky groaned softly, just loud enough for Clint to hear it over the music.

Clint snickered, blocking his face with his beer. "Yeah that's not gonna happen."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Oh piss off, you know what I mean," he hissed once Steve's eyes fluttered closed again.

The bands continued to play, moving seamlessly from one song to the next. They sang a variety of songs including a few of their own originals. Steve’s voice shifted easily from the throaty crooning of The Black Keys to the gospel like sound of Hozier and even to the upbeat tempo of Fall Out Boy when they wanted something a little peppier.

Steve’s golden hair glowed in the city lights, the shadows falling across his features making his already sharp jawline stand out even more. Bucky pulled his legs up on the couch and let his head fall back as he stared up at Steve. He looked almost angelic on the stage and yeah, Bucky was so screwed.

“Catcher’s mitt, strike two,” Steve sang, lips brushing against the microphone and God, Bucky had never wanted to be an inanimate object so badly. His eyes flicked up to catch Bucky’s as he sang the last line, “baby I’m howlin’ for you.”

Bucky let out a soft whimper as the last strains of music dissipated into the cool night air. He had been ready to spend time around Steve as nothing more than friends but damn, there was no way that he could ever have been prepared for _that_. The image of Steve swaying to the beat, his eyes closed and long strands of hair falling in to his eyes, that was going to haunt Bucky for weeks.

“Thanks for coming out everyone!” Steve cried, still pretending like he was addressing a large crowd. “Goodnight and remember, we’ll be here with you, Til The End of The Line!”

Clint and Bucky both huffed out a laugh at the tag line as they stood up, giving their friends a standing ovation.

“Bravo!”

“Encore!”

Steve grinned down at them as he unplugged his guitar and shut off his amp. “So what did you think?”

Clint gave Steve a quick pat on the back as he passed, making his way back towards Natasha with dogged determination. Suddenly Bucky was left alone with Steve, at a loss for words to describe just how much he had enjoyed Steve’s performance.

“Steve that was….incredible,” he breathed. Steve beamed up at him but still looked a little skeptical.

“Yeah?” He asked, running a hand through his hair.

Going out on a limb, Bucky let his hand rest on Steve’s boney shoulder. “You guys are amazing Steve, really. Anyone would be lucky to get to see you perform live. I only wish I remembered being at your show.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed at the praise. He paused for a moment, biting his lip as if he was concentrating hard on some something. “Yeah, what were you doin’ that-“ he started before Bucky cut him off.

“Just- not tonight Stevie,” Bucky whispered, his voice straining as he tried to keep his composure. “I promise one day I’ll tell you everything you want to know just-.”

“Hey, I understand Buck,” Steve replied, rubbing Bucky’s bicep reassuringly. “’M sorry for asking. It wasn’t my place.”

Bucky glanced around, looking desperately for something to change the subject. “Yeah, well, don’t worry about it. Listen, you need some help bringing your stuff down?”

“No, you’ve had a long day at work and then got stuck listening to us practice, I can’t let you help unload as well,” Steve teased as he turned to pick up his guitar and place it lovingly into its case. “You go on home.”

With a nod, Bucky waved to his brother, trying to grab his attention. “Oi, Clint! Stop harassing Natasha and let’s go!”

Clint grinned, throwing his arm behind him to shoot Bucky the finger. Natasha gave his shoulder a gentle push and nodded towards the door as she said something quietly. When Clint bounded across the stage, he looked like he had just won the lottery. “Alright jerk, let’s go.”

“See you around Steve-o,” Clint called as he made his way towards the door that led downstairs.

Steve chuckled at the nickname, the low sound running through Bucky’s veins like shots of electricity. “G’night Clint!” He turned to smile softly at Bucky, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “You too Buck.”

Nodding awkwardly once again Bucky turned to follow Clint. After two steps he stopped and turned to look at Steve once again. “Hey, do you have any plans for Monday?”

“None that I can think of,” Steve replied, looking thrilled that Bucky had asked.

Bucky took a deep breath and reminded himself once again that it was completely normal for friends to ask other friends to hang out. “Do you want to grab something to eat and watch a movie at my place?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Mentally Bucky high-fived himself as he tried to keep his smile from growing too large. “Excellent, I’ll see you then!” With a wave he turned and jogged across the roof to where Clint was waiting at the door. Shooting one last glance at Steve he disappeared behind it and made his way downstairs towards his apartment.

“What happened to going out to find a ‘date’ on Monday?” Clint asked, making large air quotes as he said the word ‘date’.

“I changed my mind, so sue me,” Bucky grumbled, digging his keys out of his pocket so that he would have something to do with his hands. “I can just get laid another night.”

“I can see what’s happening,” Clint began to sing, his voice growing louder with ever phrase. “But they don’t have a clue, they’ll fall in love and here’s the bottom line- heh bottom- what where was I?”

Bucky groaned, taking the stairs faster so that he could try to escape his brothers teasing. He landed on the fourth floor and hurried to his door as Clint laughed behind him.

“Oh yeah, my idiot brother. They’ll fall in love and here’s the bottom line, our trio’s down to two.”

With a triumphant ‘a-ha!’ Bucky threw his door open. “Night asshole!” he called before slamming the door shut. As he sank back against the wooden door Bucky could still hear trails of Clint’s cackling as he made his way downstairs.

Loathe as he was to admit it, Bucky thought that Clint was probably right. When it came to Steve Rogers he was in way over his head.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was worth the wait! Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me for so freaking long! I promise the next one will be up sooner, I've already got the first chunk written.
> 
> Next Chapter: Bucky's history with Pierce!!
> 
> Until then, come chat with me on Tumblr about these nerds, Sebastian Stan or Chris Evans's sexy beard at ScienceofSociopaths!


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